Life by the Hundredth

Keri and I have a unique experience in common. It is not something that I am bragging about, or something that I say is uncommon. Actually, I think it happens to quite a few people that don’t even know it, or recognize its enormity. Keri an I have both been a half biscuit away from pushing up daisies. I mean it, we both have had an amazing close call with the reaper.

Keri and I used to ride motorcycles together. To be specific, Keri rode a Yamaha R6 (crotch rocket), and I rode a Buell          (bad a** American Sportbike). On a particular beautiful day as we where riding with a group, Keri was riding very fast with some other rider. I pulled up behind just in time to see her back wheel lose traction in some gravel. My heart dropped, but she managed to regain control and keep riding. She wasn’t so lucky on the second patch of gravel.

The bike slid on the ground, then caught the dirt and flipped over, sending Keri about 10 feet up in the air in one direction, the bike about 20 feet in the air in another direction. I saw her flying through the air directly at a tree. She hit the tree with her back and flipped to the left of the tree, landing on some soft green lush grass. We both always wore proper safety gear when riding, including protective jackets. Because of the gear, she came away with only a broken pinky and a crack on a kneecap.

She is alive because of the hundredth. The hundredth of a second between her walking away, and me seeing her death.

I went back to take pictures of where the accident happened because she was so amazingly close to dying, that I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. When I told the story, the pictures are the only thing that made the story believable. At the curve in which the accident happened, there was about a 50 foot ravine. The county that the road was in, had been using the ravine to throw broken concrete from a nearby construction area. From the road, there was about a 20 foot drop onto concrete boulders about the size of refrigerators and Buicks. At the end of the curve was a gently slope covered with lush green grass and roadside flowers. What separated the two sides was a tree. To the right of the tree lay certain death. To the left, a happy ending.

The tree was not huge, trunk maybe 10 inches in diameter. When I said it separated the to areas is not an exaggeration. The tree was at the very edge of the ravine, with half of it’s roots exposed out of the side into the air. Keri hit that tree barely off-center, but enough to let her land on the soft grass, and not drop the 20 feet to the concrete. At her speed, if she lost control a hundredth of a second earlier, many people’s worlds would not be as they are now, especially mine.

That hundredth of a second changed so many people’s lives, it can’t even be measured. That blink of an eye of time, set in motion a wave of events that will be felt for generations through her actions, her children, her friends, and her faith.

In my fall, It wasn’t a matter of time, but of degrees. I fell twenty feet to concrete, landing on my butt and left elbow, precisely enough that I did not hit my head at all on the frozen asphalt.  A head injury from that height could have, if not killing me, could have left me like a bowl of carrots on life support. If my body twisted just 5 or 10 degrees more, I wouldn’t be here writing a blog about my thankfulness.

Don’t wait till your life is decided by the hundredth to start tasting how sweet life  really is. Don’t hesitate to make choices you feel are right. Don’t hold things until everything is just right to make the changes you want. Don’t wait till your “all caught up” to plan that vacation. Put work aside for a day, just to goof off with your kids. Stop and stare at your husband or wife and remember that feeling you had when you first married them.

Enjoy every single second of life, because there are so many hundredths out there, and the next second is not guaranteed,

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American Idle to Idol

I was watching American Idol tonight. For the record: Keri turned it on, I am trapped in the room by my inability to get to another t.v. I have to admit, some were pretty dang good.  I usually only watch the train wrecks in the beginning weeks. Now They are in Hollywood, and they are eliminating the ones that dodged that initial bullet. I bored with it after this point.

The one thing that I have noticed throughout the 50(?) seasons of the show, is how many of the multitudes of wishful contestants say the same thing upon exiting, head hung low, dejected, and surprised. There seems to be three standard statements the contestants say as they are sent packing. If not in exact words, the same sentiment.

1. “This is my one and only chance to live my dream as a superstar singer”

2. “Those guys up there that have made their living by signing and producing albums and successful singers don’t know what they’re talking about, I know I can sing”

3. “Those mother %&$@, they can &*?$% my #@%&”

Now statement #2 people are the disallusioned ones. The ones that have had their polite friends feed them the little white lie of “oh yeah, you’re great, you should try out for American Idol”. And the adoring parent that would rather feed the lie than crush their young’s heart. Group #3 just have some anger issues.

It’s group #1 that I find interesting. There are so many average singers that think this is their big chance, even though there are about 100,000 other average singer thinking the same thing. I guess it’s like buying a lottery ticket, even though there are millions other people buying tickets too. (I have bought lottery tickets in my day).

And back to Idol. Why is this the one chance? Why do they cry when they leave from a very subpar audition? I think Idol, like the lottery, the actual dream is to get something for nothing. To have the good fortune come while coasting along not trying to have a better life.

Yeah, someone is going to win American Idol, and someone is going to win the lottery. But  the odds of winning Idol is about 1 in 100,000 if you count all the people that try out. Chance of winning lottery is 1 in 195,249,054, that’s over one hundred and ninety five MILLION to 1.  You have a better chance of being Brad Pitt than winning a lottery.

Good luck with that.

Work hard and become a leader; be lazy and never succeed. (Proverbs 12:24)

Sorry, couldn’t find a passage about sitting on your tookus and waiting for the ship to come in.

so many contestants say “this was my chance” or “i’ve dreamed of being here” but they’re not that good. why not work for it?

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My Tao of Ink

As anyone that knows me will attest to, I like tattoos. I like my tattoos, and like them on others. I go to Barnes & Noble and drink coffee and look through their Tattoo magazines. As a matter of fact, I just got a new piece added last week. It is on my left, injured, forearm. It is something for me, as they all are. I reads “NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER GIVE UP” and then it has the author’s, Winston Churchill, signature. The worse of my rehab is coming up, and wanted to remind my self what I have to do.

It’s been quite a few years since my last tattoo, but it was so easy to decide to get another in such a visible place. With all my free time, again I pondered what was under the desire to get the tattoo. I am not suggesting to anyone to get a tattoo, but there are reasons people get tattoos. My first one (the silly first one) was because I was young, single and thought it would raise my cool factor, therefore raise my chances of getting chicks. Did I mention I was young……and dumb? My second one was done in the presence of my would-eventually-become, wife. It was just two kanji characters that meant “live large”.

The one on my back grew, and grew……and grew. First I added a tribal around the characters, then more. I added a tribal Maltese cross (firefighter symbol), then fire around the cross and all the way up my back and neck. It has, so far, ended with water surrounding the whole thing. I also have a fire dragon on my chest. It was done the year we got married. Keri was born the year of the dragon, and she is a fire sign. Then I had Ethan’s name written on my left calf. On the inside of both wrists, is a sun which has “Who ever finds God, finds Life” written around it. My last is on my right shoulder which is a design for Keri. It even reads Keri in the center. It will soon be a half sleeve that will have my boys name on it also. And now my left arm tattoo

So what’s the deal with them? First, it is important to know that all but the initial one were done while I have been with Keri. Second, it is important to know, that they feel as natural on my skin as the little hairs, or a birthmark do. As if as soon as they are done, they became part of my genetic code, and have always been there.

Everyone get tattoos for different reasons, and have way different styles. Some because, they think they’re cool, some because they think they’re beautiful, or just give in to peer pressure. Some use them to show their pain, their anger, their solitude and some, their joys. But they all can tell a story about the wearer. They convey the mindset or feelings of the wearer at the time they were getting the art done. Their sorrows or their joys become a permanent fixture on their skin. And as a permanent reminder of what they felt at that time in their life.

For me, they signify a particular time or event in my life. Getting married? Got a tattoo to commemorate my new bride. I’m a firefighter, so get ink to show it. Have a life changing injury? Got to mark that down. I will say, all mine are of good events, and I want to remember them.

Yes, I consider my injury a good thing. It has reminded how wonderful my life is, and how amazing my wife is. It has shown me my friends, and the impact I have made in this world. And most of all, It showed me the amazing grace of God. It showed His true love and care for His children. And that’s something I want to remember.

The finished product.

The finished product

This is it! Keri suggested the designs around the letters. I had something else, but her idea was better.

Just another view.

Churchill's signature

Churchill’s signature, another great keri idea.

Chad working

Odd position

Since this was my injured arm, I had to contort to some uncomfortable positions to get around the arm

Laying down to get back of arm

hard luck tattoos - 23rd and Robinson, next to the blue note.

So why did I point out that all but one tattoo was done while I have been with Keri? Because she always want me and herself to be who we are. When I wanted this last tattoo, I asked if I could get a tattoo, but not tell her what it was, or where I wanted to put it. She said sure without hesitation. I thank God everyday that He put us together.

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I can multitask, but I suck at multi-goals

I have been a firefighter for over 16 ½ years. I started when I was 26. Before that, I was a bartender. So career wise, it was a big step up. When I was bartending, and waiting tables before that, my life was essentially a day to day affair. If I worked that day, I went to work. If I didn’t work, I did something else. The something else usually consisted of running around with friends, mountain biking, had a kayak, rock climbing, I dated a lot, and of course the stray beer now and then.

This seemed to work for me ok. I was pretty happy, and surely had a good time. I have heard others say that miss their old days of  swinging single life. Doing whatever they want, when they wanted to, and the sowing of wild oats. I must digress and admit that I miss those days too. Who doesn’t?

As I look back, though, the reason I could be so free back then, is because I had no goals. I was a replaceable bartender at a replaceable job. Hadn’t thought about future, career and I didn’t want to be married. It’s like I wasn’t a person playing soccer, just a doofus running and kicking a ball.  Well, running around kicking a ball is fun for a while, until all of a sudden, you realize it’s pointless. So you add some goals, add some rules for you to go by, and now your in the game.

I got in the game the first day I showed up at the fire academy. I immediately loved it, so I set the goal of making this my career, and the rules I needed to make the goal happen. When I married my beautiful Keri, I set the goal of being a good husband. When I had kids, there came the new goal of being a good father. When I started going to church, there came another goal. That’s a lot of goals, and a lot of rules to make order of it all.

Of the over 9 years Keri and I have been married, I have worked a second job. I set out the goal of having extra money for the family, and being able to get them all what they want. I am blessed with a great job I love, but I lost the second job because of the economy. I haven’t had a second job in a year.

That’s when I noticed how jumbled my goals were. What I thought were goals, really weren’t. And the rules had become wet-paper soft. And I also realized that I pretty much suck at all the goals. I’m good at soccer, but I’m only kicking towards one goal.

Without second jobs, I was with my sons all day, and able to help my wife with the house. cool, 2 goals done. Sure, I lost the goal of the extra money, but we have way more than we need. So I traded a materialistic goal for permanent goals with my family. So now I’m down to 3 goals: Work (gotta have that), family (they need me), and church (when work and family time permits).

As recent events has shown me, ie: my accident, not all goals are guaranteed attainable. For instance, If my injuries don’t fully heal, I won’t be able to return as a firefighter. That goal is gone. And If you go by statistics; in America, 50% of marriages end in divorce. There’s more goals down.

So that leaves one goal left. And the good news, is that there is no chance of it changing or ending. The rules are set out, and if you really want to achieve the goal, simple to follow. When it all boils down, there is only one guaranteed goal I can achieve. I can follow God with all my heart, and do all I can to follow his rules. I won’t be perfect, and won’t win any awards or trophies. But I am happy, hopeful, and I have a goal I can achieve everyday. The  best part, is that by putting this goal first, all the other things in my life are easier to accomplish. I am definitely a better, more loving, more attentive husband and father. And I will be a better firefighter when I can get back to that. And all the extra money, and the things it buys, just doesn’t matter much.

The old saying goes “You can’t take it with you.”, but with God, you can most definitely take it with you, anywhere.

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Face the Fatigue!

I have been gone a few days. I write late at night, and my son has been spending the night, so that accounts for two days. Plus I have been very fatigued lately, it has been hard to stay up and write. I know it sounds odd that a person who in bed at least 20 hours a day in bed could be fatigued. It actually kind of snuck up on me too. It got to the point that I could barely move my own body. I also got my one-arm drive wheelchair, and that really wears out my right arm. Since I only have my right arm to move me around, when it gets tired, I’m out luck.

Last night, I fell asleep at 7:30, and woke up this morning at 9:00. Thirteen and a half hours of sleep!

I used the word fatigued for a reason, I was way beyond tired. The definition of fatigue is : “extreme tiredness, typically resulting from mental or physical exertion or illness : he was nearly dead with fatigue.” . That is how I felt. But how?

Rehab is very painful and stressful. It takes a lot out of me. Any type of movement I do takes a bunch of energy. I have lost 20 pounds since my accident, and it’s almost all muscle lost.  Not to mention the mental toll of being away from home for 2 months.

I started getting tired the beginning of last week, but I pushed through that, I’m pretty strong, and motivated. As the week went on, my fuel tank ran very low. Even though I was weary by friday night, I let Ethan spend the night, I always have energy for him. Heck, drop him off Sunday night too. The sun rose Monday morning on a very tired dude. I made no progress at rehab, or in myself.

After a good, long nights sleep, I sure feel better. The rest has refreshed my mind, spirit, and I feel strong again. I hope I remember this morning.  Even in the outside world, I did the same thing. I ran around trying to do anything and everything. I’ve had two jobs for the last 15 years. I try to do everything for my sons, and my family. I think I have been running fatigued for years, but never took the time to notice it. It is easy here, my life is slow enough to see things I usually just pass by. Seeing how much it affected me to be fatigued here. I know how much it must of affected me with my family, job, and God.

I don’t have to sleep 14 hours sleep to get rest, if I take little rests along the way. Sitting back reading a book for pleasure, even better the Bible. Relaxing with my favorite cd. Anything that lets me shut out all the busyness, and refuels me. Sometimes a nap can be a real lifesaver.

Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the LORD has been good to you. – Psalm 116:7

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The One Time I Cried.

I have been pretty strong throughout this event I am going through. I have made it through the pain of the injuries, and through the surgery. I have sustained the prolonged hospital stays, and the ache of not being with my family. This has not been fun, but for the most part, I have taken it all in stride. I haven’t felt sad or angry about my situation.  As you can tell from the title of this blog, I feel there is so much grace that this incident has brought out.

But one day, sadness, fear and anger washed over me.

On December 24, Christmas eve, A transport took me in my wheelchair to Lifechurch for the 1:00pm service. As anyone around Oklahoma knows, that was also the day of the blizzard. It was bad when we got there at 1:00, and way worse when we got out at 2:00. Only about 20 people made it to the service, and they cancelled all the other services.

The snow made the transport company late. Getting us all back to the hospital was slow going. We didn’t get back to the hospital till almost 5:30. The blizzard blew hard and the roads were covered with deep snow. Stuck and stalled cars littered the roadway, and it was getting dark. Keri had to drive herself and our two sons home in our jeep. The jeep has a soft top, and is not the most insulated vehicle for the cold. But they had to get home.

I kissed them all goodbye and they left for the cold trek home.

I started sweating and getting worried as soon as they closed the door. I am very protective of my family. I am used to being there at times like this to make sure they’re safe. But this time, I had to lay there in the bad as they had to make the trip home without me. What if they got stuck? How would they get help? Keri would be stuck in the cold with the boys. Or if someone slid into them. I wouldn’t be there with them, and I had no way to help them if something happened.

I had no control! I couldn’t do anything, nothing at all to keep them safe. I was at the mercy of their fate. Am I being melodramatic? maybe I am, but it’s exactly what I felt, and I cried more than I had in years. I cried from my intense fear. The fear of something happening to my family, and the fear of not being in control of their safety. I prayed the whole time.

They got home just fine. All was good, and they were laughing about how much fun it was to drive in the snow. I didn’t mention my little breakdown. They even got up Christmas morning and drove through the snow to celebrate with me.

After I got over my personal embarrassment at the situation, I noticed something. They got home fine without me. And I also noticed that I managed to fall through a roof all by myself, and didn’t have any control of it.  I also noticed that when I felt out of control, I turned to God to take the control.

I guess I don’t have the control I though I had.

I can’t control the weather. I can’t control gravity, or other people, or my jeep’s traction in the snow. I really can’t control much of anything at all.

But I can turn to God to take control. He is really good at it. And I can laugh about how much fun it is to drive in the snow.

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It’ll Come Back to Haunt You!

A good Russian friend of mine and Keri came up to the hospital. They came over to watch a very cool Russian vampire movie called DayWatch. If any of you have seen it, I would be very surprised. But at the end, the main character has to fix a mistake he made 10 years prior to save the world.

I sat back and thought about that for a while. One wise man in the movie asked “think about the exact point you changed your destiny”. It was very interesting the idea that the main guy went from a normal life to a painful path that led to the end of the world. And all because of one choice.

I started thinking about the choices I have made, and the paths they have led me on. How little choices changed my direction forever.

Over 17 years ago I went to school to become an EMT, emergency medical technician. I couldn’t find a good job doing it. I was a bartender at the time, so I planned to move to Seattle, live with my brother for a little while and get a job there. Hopefully with an ambulance service.  Then, one day at work, someone mentioned the fire department. My next choice changed my life forever. I called the Okc fire dept. and asked when they where taking applications, they said till 4:00 that day. I took off from work and applied. now 16.5 years later, I still love my job.

It was 13 years ago when I planned my trip to Iceland. I was going to ride my mountain bike across the Island and  volcano fields. Then my traveling partner backed out. This next choice changed my life forever. I took my Iceland money and bought a motorcycle. Three weeks later, as I filled up my new bike with gas, I met a hot chick with a great smile. 13 years, and two kids later, I am still in love with that hot chick with a great smile.

On Dec. 4th, 2009, I made the choice to walk across a metal roof. As you probably know by now, that choice changed my life forever also.

Everyday we have choices to make. Turn left or right? Get Gas at this Texaco or the next?  Wear the nice jeans, instead of the old ragged ones

Each choice has many different possible outcomes, and very rarely do we notice the direct outcomes of these choices. If you had turned left, it may have been you in that wreck. At the next Texaco, there might be a person you say “hi” to, that becomes the love of your life. Good thing you chose the good jeans!

There are also big choices; Should I get a divorce? Should I go back to school? Should I accept this job at this time?

These outcomes can be more obvious. Change you and your children’s lives. Provide yourself a future. Saying no to something now, so God can provide something better.

I am thankful for the good choices I have made, and hopefully learned from the bad ones. But I have learned one important thing; I do know how to make right choices. All I have to do is make the choices that are right. I don’t mean correct, I mean decisions that are true to my heart, beliefs, and that are obedient to God

If I am obedient, I can’t make bad choices.

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Get my Butt Home!

I have not stepped in my house in over 52 days 17 hours, as of this writing. That is a long time! And the whole time, I have not been more than about 15 minutes away from the house. For the last month, I have been exactly 8 minutes away from home. Just a couple of turns, and 5 stop signs.

I am close to my house, and a thousand miles from home.

It is strange how much I have forgotten about my house. I remember the house well enough, but it feels like vague memories. Most of all, I have forgotten the feelings of home. I don’t recall the emotion tied to playing with my sons on their bunk bed. There is no sensation to cuddling up with my family on the sofa, watching Spongebob Squarepants for the 20th time. I no longer sense the warmth of laying in bed next to my wife.

And I’m nervous about going home. And I could be happening soon.

My rehabilitation has been going very well, enough to maybe go home. My wife and I have talked about it. Today I discussed it with my therapist.  We are looking at what I will need to be at home. I still have five weeks left before I can walk, so I will need some medical equipment there.

I want to be home so bad. I miss being in my sons everyday life, of helping them get ready for school. I miss sitting next to my wife and talking. I even miss my three goofy dogs.

Right after the accident, as I lay on the ground, all I could think about was having my friend next to me. Now that I am making progress, all I can think about is being with my family.  Through this, I have learned just how amazingly important relationships are. Not just my with my wife and kids, but with my friends and the people I interact with. They are  all wonderful blessings!

My prayer tonight is that people will not wait to experience tragedy to recognize the blessings of relationships.

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Don’t Talk to the Cripple!

Saturday night was a great night. The son of a good friend was Baptized. I was able to get into a regular van to go to watch. It was at Lifechurch, the northwest campus.

I was able to take a shower that day. I shaved and washed my hair. I put on a pair of nice Jeans and a clean shirt and some shoes. I looked good, even in a wheelchair, and I felt great.

I rolled into the church, happy to see a friend get Baptized, and happy to be out of the hospital for awhile. The campus was busy, and I got to talk to friends that I had not seen in a while. When the music started, my wife and I took our seats inside, about a third away from the front. I had to sit a little in the aisle because of the size of my wheelchair. Needless to say, I was visible.

At the end of the worship, The pastor asked everyone to greet someone near them. I sat there close to about 20 people, and no one said hi. I thought this odd. Then the pastor asked every one to introduce themselves to 3 people. Only one man came up to me. As I looked around I could see people deliberately look away from me. They would turn their heads til they could see me in their peripheral vision, then stop there. I actually waved to people so they could surely see me, but then they would look at something in opposite direction. My wife didn’t say anything about me looking contagious, or leper-like.

Now these are good people. I could see their friendly and happy interaction with each other. So I wondered why they were so intent on ignoring me?

What is so scary about handicapped people? They’re not contagious, you know. Is it that we are so curious about their predicament that we are embarassed to face them?  Do we not want to be overly attentive to them and make them self-conscious?  Is it  simply being uncomfortable with someone different?

Maybe it’s just we feel guilty for thanking God it’s not us.

Well:
- If your curious, talk to them
-They know they are in wheelchair. Or that they blind, deaf, have MS, etc….. So self-conciousness is more you than them.
- Say hi, and you’ll see that being different can be pretty cool.

Most of all, it’s ok to thank God now and then.

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I’d sure love to ……….

So, what would you do if you could? If you had the time, what cool thing that you’ve always wanted to do, would you do. You know what I’m talking about, that little thing that you put aside cause you just can’t fit it into your busy life.

Me, I always wanted to learn to play the bass. What about you? Learn Chinese? Write a country western song? Build a ship in a bottle? Maybe you have more life affirming aspirations. Like volunteer at a soup kitchen. Or to spend a day at habitat for humanity. Or maybe just “read the Bible in a year”.

So imagine UPS comes to your door with a big package, and inside is Time. Yeah, a box of free time. You got a gift an extra hour a day, to spend as you want. So what would you do with it? Fulfill your dreams of learning the piano to be the next Liberace? Write the book you’ve been talking about and planning in your head since college? Save those hours till Saturday and go on a church neighborhood mission?

Heck Ya’!!!!

Well odds, are the real answer is “still not enough time”. Most people would just use that time to finish all the stuff that just HAD to be done.

Sad. So why don’t we find and set aside the time to do the things we want to. I think it’s because we are already doing the things we want to.
I mean, If you REALLY wanted to do something you would find the time.

There are just things that we want more. Don’t wanna work, but want the money, so off to work. Sick of work, but want new Toyota, so work longer. Would like to go to gym, but don’t want other people I barely know to think I’m rude, so have to be at that luncheon. American Idol just started, followed by the new “24″. Woah! Sweet new 60′ HiDef flat-panel, off to do more work. Have to check the email.

Day after day, week after week, year after year. Until your answering questions like “what would like to do if you had some free time”.

All time is free. It was given to us by a very generous Giver. But He never promised to just keep the time coming, so do something good with it. This minutes free, but the next one might cost you.

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