this morning as i was on my way to the trail for a jog/walk (the post from earlier today was actually written a couple of weeks ago)... my blackberry lit up alerting me to an email.
it was from kim and my st. jude run buddies who were down in memphis gearing up for the start of the memphis to peoria run. they just wanted me to know that they'd not forgotten me... and that they're still carrying the torch.
the email came with mixed emotions. i want so much to be with them... but i'm very proud of each one of them.. and thankful for them too. together they will have raised hundreds of thousands of dollars for st. jude children's research hospital... this year alone.
when kim emailed me, they were getting ready to go to the hospital. they would have arrived in memphis last night... had their private runners meeting... then joined fellow supporters for a banquet where some were no doubt honored for their longevity & extra hard work in helping the kids. then a few will have ventured out to beale street for some late night fun & libation before hitting the sack in the hotel or rv.
this morning they will have attached the banners to the motor-homes... scarfed done some breakfast before heading to the hospital. then i'm guessing they will have been given a tour of the new chili's care center on the st. jude campus. that's where emma & i went on our last visit. it's pretty sweet.
finally... after a few pep talks and a prayer... the gold team will have hit the pavement around noon to start the long run home. sounds like it's a hot one there as usual. (weather.com said it was 97 degrees just now, but that it feels like 108. real temps must have been above 100 when they started)... proof they don't do this for fun & exercise.
as the blue team passes the runners... they'll hang out doors & cheer those already drenched with proof that they think more of the kids than themselves. some will run their 6 mile leg at a 10 min./mile pace, like my segment... others will run 5-6 min./mile segments, like big t's. some will succumb to the heat and get in the runner van after a mile or two. it doesn't really matter. it's all good. finally they'll catch up to the blue team waiting for their chance to prove they're just as much in love with the kids.
eventually on saturday night... after around 485 miles of pavement... they'll find family & friends cheering their finish... proud of all their hard work and sacrifice.
so... my run this morning had a few tears mixed in with it. tears of sadness that i can't be there to keep my rv family on the straight and narrow as they try to get me off of it! tears that i can't join in the cause in such a tangible way. tears of thankfulness for the memories... and tears of pride for my friends who have dropped everything one more time for the sake of families like ours who woke up one day to find everything had changed.
i got up early this morning to take i & e to the church to catch the gang heading to cedar point today. got back to the house... and, i don't know if it was G*D moving in me or just the freshness of the morning... but something drew me to dig through the dust to uncover my running shoes. that... plus the lingering taste of the 2 chocolate chip cookies i had before breakfast... pushed me out the door... into the car... and over to the recently opened "falling waters trail."
i knew this run would be a joke. it's been too long.
some people have been encouraging me to give-up and invest in a bike. maybe someday. but not today. i'm not quite ready to let go.
i read john 15, one of my staple passages, so i'd have something to keep my mind off the wheezing. these verses are the mother lode and critical to my journey of late.
parked the car... hid the keys. then i stretched a bit, although i'm not sure why.
the neuropathy plays tricks on my mind. so before i started, i took off my shoes to make sure my sock wasn't stuffed between some of my toes... even though i've fallen for that too many times to count. but it got me again. i'm thankful my feet are less painful than they were. not sure if that's due to improvement or to not being on them as much. either way, i'm thankful.
my nephew is an excellent runner... and helps manage a running store in ft. wayne. he told me recently he could hook me up with some shoes that are specially made for people with neuropathy. i'm guessing they're pricey... but maybe they'd be worth the extra moolah.
walked for awhile. then jogged to see how things felt.
i didn't jog far. probably just a few hundred yards. my feet didn't feel bad, but i could tell my legs could use some strengthening. i'm sure the gut i've acquired didn't help any either.
walked a bit more... jogged... walked... then picked a realistic marker in the distance and jogged some more before declaring the official half-way point for my reasonable first-time-back-in-the-saddle jog.
on my way back, i decided my last leg would be to jog all the way back to my beginning point. but that marker was around a bend... and i didn't want to start too soon, only to fail my goal. so i decided i'd wait until it came into sight before i'd begin jogging.
one of the reasons i love running so much is because it continually drops illustrations and life-lessons at my doorstep. as with any sport, dream, challenge, or pursuit... they spew images that crossover into other life-layers. personally i think it's what naturally happens when you create some space to listen... letting G*D use any language he wants to get through to our pre-occupied minds. but i can't say that i expected to have an encounter on my first day back on the trail.
anyway... as soon as i made the decision to hold off jogging until i could see the mark i'd picked... a quiet thought barged onto the path.
"sometimes you just have to start running even if you can't see the end. and realistically... what's the big deal even if you do have to walk to the finish? would you rather play it safe... or stretch yourself?"
hmmmmm. i never know how to take these kinds of thoughts. but looking back, i wondered... was G*D issuing me a throw-down???
anyway, i started to jog... the end outside of my visual grasp... but locked into my imagination.
but as my sleek body glistened & glided along the trail... (literary license to mask the reality that i was lumbering along, sweating profusely)... i wrestled with another thought. a question, this time.
"what if what you think is around this bend is different? what if everything has changed?"
last friday i took beth to see "mamma mia"... and then the other night i went with joe & stu to see "the dark knight". could 2 movies be any different?
a friend commended me for taking beth to a broadway musical/movie; but if truth be known. i enjoyed it. i guess i might as well admit that i also love to watch "so you think you can dance"... and i just joined a facebook group called "why yes, i do frequently burst out in song." it's a sad reality in my life that guarantees eye rolls from my kids... and wife. but i've always been a performer/dancer at heart... even though my body never chose to comply.
i also spent a fair amount of my childhood wearing a dish towel cape clothespinned to my shoulders and trying to fly... but was equally unsuccessful at that!
anyway... everyone kept telling me that heath ledger did an amazing job as the joker. i would agree. but so did meryl streep... and she had to sing while she jumped around!
but in order for a movie to pass the test... beyond great acting jobs, cinematography & sound/music... the story line has got to win me over in some way. not that i always have to agree with where the director took the plot. i guess i'm happiest when it hooks me & takes me to the corner cafe for either a discussion or some laughs with the people who reached into my popcorn tub.
who would have guessed so much could be done with some comic book characters and a bunch of random songs from the 70's?
maybe it's the curse of the reflective mind. i'm always noticing possible meanings... wondering how many of the lines were subtle messages from the director's core or just a fluke of the script. others seem to be able to switch off their minds and just enjoy themselves. i guess that's hard for me... although not impossible.
a few weeks ago when my kids wanted to go see "the love guru", i read up on it and decided that it's a movie they could do without. sure, it's only pg-13... and yes, they hear & get all that stuff already at school. but i fear we've become a society that does just because we can... without thinking through the subtle influence it's having on our perspective.
it all impacts us in one way or another... and not always in bad ways. example: my 3 have grown a bit weary of hearing dad break out into abba songs during our conversations this past week. beth too. i have one response for them all. "why so serious?"
it won't last long though. i was never a big abba fan.
so anyway... here are the "propaganda points" that i singled out from the 2 movies i saw. i'll let you guess which ones go with which movie... as well as debate whether or not they were intentional subliminal back masking.
don't ask your parents to show you pictures of them from the 70's... or to tell you stories. you don't want to know.
people want a world where no one gets hurt except the bad guys.
it's okay not to get married as long as you're both in love.
real heroes become whatever their people need them to be.
kids don't really need dads. they just think they do.
if you're a hero... arrange it so you die young.
just because you're james bond, have an english accent, and get a part in a musical turned movie... it doesn't mean you can sing worth beans.
almost everyone has a price.
there have to be at least 2 gay men in every musical.
bad guys have some good inside of them somewhere... except for the crazy ones.
have lots of sex when you're young. it will all work out in the end.
if you play by the rules... you can never fully win, because evil always cheats.
bet you never imagined seeing that as a title for a post.
near the end of radiation, my right side took a beating. nothing too severe. it just looked like a bad sunburn that covered part of my neck, shoulder & armpit... front & back. and i had some nasty blisters around my collar bone that turned pretty raw. (be glad i resisted posting pictures!)
my kids probably hadn't seen my incision since surgery #2... and i tend to keep that area covered pretty well. no use subjecting them to needless trauma. but the other day while i was standing in the kitchen, emma asked, "dad, why is your neck so red?' so beth had me take off my shirt and show them the damage. luckily it wasn't right before dinner.
ian's our huggy kid. so he immediately crossed the room and put his arms around me. and i think they all treated me a little nicer for a day or two.
with a little loving care... it's healed beautifully... the peeling being the final stage of recovery.
it reminds me of my docs words. "there is no such thing as a healthy tan." because the reality is that tanning is simply your skin trying to recover from the sun's damage. pearls before swine in our beauty craving culture... as it was for me when i was younger.
physical therapy has gone well too. i'm amazed at how much stronger my arm is getting... and how much more range i have with it. just have to keep those exercises going.
dr. lao will schedule scans for august some time. and we'll go from there. the farther it is from treatment, the more they'll be able to differentiate between healing tissue & possible cancer. hopefully it won't show anything.
that's what i read on a bumper sticker the other day.
maybe it's plain old road-rage... but i have to admit that i find myself respecting people with bumper stickers less than other motorists.
i hate bumper stickers.
i view them as traveling billboards that add useless noise to the landscape.
but i also gotta admit... this one got me thinking...
...wondering what in the world was going on in that driver's grey matter!
was he mocking the "god loves me" b.s. crowd? or the "jesus loves me" bunch?
was he a sci-fi geek? or just a star wars fanatic obsessed with wookieepedia or maybe yoda-speak?
hmmmmm. never know, i will.
it's funny how the weirdest things stick in your mind... like a random ridiculous bumper sticker. but since seeing it, i've thought about how too many times american christianity hasn't seemed a whole lot different from a "yoda loves me" kind of faith... a drummed up ideology based on a wish that someone is out there who cares about them... a fortune cookie feeling that gets them through the day... a way of training their thoughts away from an empty existence they might be wading through... a hope based upon something they were taught as a child.
there have been times when i've been there too... more recently than i'd care to admit.
one of the reasons i sky-dived into ministry in the first place was because i wanted to help unstick the church from the yoda-ness i'd grown up under.
so... if there's one thing i've never wanted... it was a yoda-faith. but i'm realizing i'd become more of a yodish-pastor than i thought i was. so... in some way this ejection from professional ministry has the opportunity to be a spiritual healing of sorts.
at the same time... it's not something you just quit. i can't just behave my heart to some place it's not. but i don't think G*D expects me to either. he just tugs me to be the fullest me i know to be right now... not the me someone else expects me to be... or the me i expect myself to be. he just wants me to be alive to the "this moment" me.
sometimes faith is putting one foot in front of the other and hoping that somehow Jesus has got you pointed halfway in the right direction.
jenn & i started a college study in our home recently. i'm lovin' it because it allows me to hang with people who are honest & thinking... often with questions pumped fresh from their aortas. the post high school years are when most of us integrate Jesus into the core of our existence or... choose to keep him as a rabbit foot in our pocket or... trade him in for another belief system that seems more practical.
an important time for sure.
for many of them, the "come to Jesus" experience they once had has faded into little more than a code to follow to some imaginary world or system of social reform... yoda-ology. and that's too often what they've gotten from the church & various campus ministries. but they're looking for a christianity that is gritty and raw... able to handle their questions and dilemmas... one that feels fresh & alive. if following Jesus is simply about all the musts & mustn'ts of morality or social justice... they'd just as soon trade-in their baseball cards.
i want to give them an integrated perspective... some place between the behavior modification "training vs. trying" approach to spiritual formation and the mystical "follow the Spirit" approach. it's funny how most us tend to throw our weight to one side or the other. but since the "training" model seems to have saturated the church circles i exist in these days, i have to counter that "be like Jesus" emphasis with the "be with Jesus" emphasis... helping them capture & enjoy & interact with the movement of G*D.
i want them to see G*D active in their world... constantly moving in & around them. i want it for myself as well.
i can't train them to pretend G*D is real and expect them to end up with anything other than a yoda god. faith grows by being attentive to the evidence... the movement... then climbing upon it to stand, dance & stretch out our hands into the chaos, hoping that eventually our fingertips will skim across the hem of G*D's robe in the form of further evidence to scramble onto.
i see our faith journey as more of an interaction... a dance between certainty & confusion and intellect & emotion. not just a dance with a belief system, but a waltz with The Unique One... the intersection between heaven & earth.
there's a difference in the peace that comes from convincing ourselves that something is real & true... or from training ourselves to act like something is real & true... or from behaving as though something is real & true...
...and the peace which comes from having lunch with That Someone just now.
i guess i've just seen too many times how our suitcase tends to be packed with the wares of christianity... that is, disciplines, programs, systems of thinking & acting, etc... rather than with Jesus himself. we sell a beautifully wrapped gift that conceals a brown cardboard box of do's & don'ts and spiritual workout plans and tantalizing programs that all too often create growth-killing pressure & busyness.
of course we can't live totally on feelings & experiences. and i believe there are times when G*D will refine us to ensure our love is more for him than for the feelings that come from being with him.
but the kingdom of G*D wasn't meant to be a boot camp. it wasn't meant to be a paint by number picture.
it was meant to be a ball in the castle... a just before midnight dance with The King... a 3rd sudden-death in the stanley cup.
when we were in warren for the 4th, we took a quick stroll down main street. if i had squinted just a bit... not much would have changed over the last few decades. yet... behind the storefronts, few of the stores remain that i remember. that's sad to me. but i guess things change everywhere.
how fun it would be to hear the door chime and the floor boards creak as i walk into coleman's drugstore and pull a cream soda out of the chilled water... and maybe browse the model selection to find the latest hot rod to glue & paint... or to spin on the stools at rexall's and order a nickel 'suicide'.
sounds & sights that dance only among my brain cells now... and maybe even more now than they did back then. sometimes i wonder if much of heaven will be re-living the simplest of things in life... and delighting in them fully because we see each one as a gift from The One Who Always Loved Us.
of course... much of what i knew growing up would be strange to you. we each had different rides on "the scrambler"... subtle differences that live on today in small ways.
for instance... when you were in high school and you stopped in at your local place of refreshment... what did you order? for me... it was "a coke". of course, that didn't mean i wanted a coca-cola... that was just the intro that prodded the server to ask, "what kind of coke would you like?"... to which i would reply "seven-up", "pepsi" or whatever it was that i wanted.
but... living in florida, st. louis, & illinois it was "soda." and now in michigan it's "pop."
what term did you use? or today... when you want your son to stop by the store to pick up a 12 pack of some non-alcoholic drink for the gang who's coming over this weekend... what do you tell him to pick up?
having lived in so many places... now i just ask for what i want specifically.
i actually stumbled onto a website that shows the research some guy did that shows what we've all experienced. click on this link and it even allows you to click on your state and see how it breaks down by county!
although... it appears that my home county has changed since i was a kid... now preferring "pop" over "coke" as the name of choice.
most people don't think of going south for the 4th of july... but we do... and did.
one of my brothers lives in bluffton, indiana... about an hour south of the michigan line. we didn't grow up there. but my mother worked at the 'caylor-nickel clinic' when we lived on the farm about a half an hour away.
'the fourth' has always been a special time for us beyond just celebrating our country's independence. my mother's birthday was july 1st... and my dad's was july 4th... so we did the family-gather thing complete with packing our stomachs with burgers or whatever was dangling over the charcoal. our parents are gone now, but never far from our thoughts.
in earlier years, the 4th also was a time for enjoying the salamonie summer festivalin warren, where we lived most of our growing up days... so i thought it would be fun to take the family over for the festival parade, since we were so close.
on our way there, i drove down shafer road and past the farm. the land still holds a certain mystic for me. even though the house is now abandoned, overgrown, & really should be torn down... somehow i only see it the way it used to be. taking a picture from the edge of "our property"... i'm reminded that in some ways little has changed since those days.
finally in town... we placed our chairs across from the school i attended as a kid... the school where one day i slid down the snowy hill... ...on my piano book! anyway... every window seemed to invite me into a different collection of short stories. but there wasn't time for too much reminiscing... the parade was coming!
our lawn chair vantage point was only a couple houses from where we lived after moving off the farm. i found myself pointing out my bedroom window to my kids... then feeling a bit strange. why should they care which was my bedroom window? i guess i was just hoping it might help them realize this was holy ground in some way.
home has a way of making you feel that way sometimes. you wish you could let your kids have a peak into your past... or at least into the good times.
like in any small town... the parade was stuffed with fire engines, old tractors & cars, politicians, a few floats, kid's baseball teams and a marching band. my kids said it was more fun hearing me skateboard down memory lane than anything else.
there was the convertible sporting the 2008 "little miss salamonie", followed by her 9-yr. old predecessor... which triggered my own childhood memories of singing as the winner walked her acceptance walk. "there she is, little miss salamonie. there she is, our ideal." ah, those were the days.
and sure enough, there among the pick-ups sprouting with heads fresh from their summer butch cut was a group wearing shirts for 'heyde oil'... one of the teams i, myself, played on during my many awkward years.
and my grade school friend, john williams, drove his plymouth sports fury loaded with his grandkids.
and i was surprised when some of my bonham cousins walked by drawing the crowd's support to elect my cousin, paul, for county commissioner. where's my squirt gun when i need it?!
but then, seeing the float my thompson cousins made... surrounded by nearly 200 thompsons... left me with the eerie realization that probably most of the people in the parade were related to me in one way or another.
but that's not a bad thing. that's what happens when you go back to your roots.
for the 2 or 3 of you who missed it... and might be interested in watching... here's the entire parade (or most of it) in 1 minute & 45 seconds!
ian got to connect with his soul-mate & peoria buddy, cameron, whose family was also returning to their hoosier stomping grounds not far away. i'm so thankful they've stayed connected. he's one of our favorites, for sure.
then a drive back along 'shafer road'... some great bluffton fireworks to celebrate beth's first fourth as a u.s. citizen... a trip to taylor to drop off cameron... a couple stops at fireworks store... and we're home again in michigan.
i also learned that more family members read my blog than i expected... which feels kind of cool & weird at the same time... which also leads me to the retraction part.
no... beth wasn't really examined by oprah's grandma for her citizenship test. beth's re-telling of the experience simply labeled her interviewer as the kind of woman who seemed like she might be oprah's grandma, but i neglected to make that clear in my blog post.
i apologize. we regret any confusion this error may have caused anyone... and meant no harm to oprah's family. we also regret any stress that our family members may bear because they told friends & family that oprah's grandmother helped beth become a u.s. citizen. as far as we know... oprah's grandmother neither lives in detroit, nor works for the department of homeland security. although, neither can we confirm that she doesn't. we also wish to deny any rumors that beth has been contacted by harpo productions to tape a special immigration segment for the oprah show.
breakfast is not usually my favorite meal of the day... ...which my wife resents.
you see... it is for her.
she can think of few things better than heading out for an omelet to start her day.
but over the years, with all my breakfast meetings... i'm the one who usually ends up more regularly at "the bob"... "the crack"... or "the roxy." and my selection is pretty plain & healthy... much to her annoyance.
even at home, my typical routine involves some kashi "vive" cereal. i love it. if there's some blueberries or strawberries to top it... even better. emma, my "capt'n crunch" queen calls it "sticks & stones".
but today? today's different. today we have fresh peaches.
peaches are one of those fruits that launch my saliva glands instantaneously... especially this time of year.
they remind me of many, many wonderful times at the cottage on lake simcoe during the 'dating' months... the newlywed years... and the young kid years. and i can't eat them without thinking of beth's dad... pontificating and chuckling as he peeled & sliced peach after peach for whomever may be waiting to top their shreddies and inhale the fruit of his labor.
i guess they say "vacation" to me... and "family."
of course... sometimes peaches don't deliver on their promise... and the taste is less worthy of my fantasy. oh, for the assurance that these were ontario grown!
so... here i sit. pontificating in clarke's name... delighting in the senses as each slice falls off my knife into the bowl of s & s... wondering if they'll live up to the goose bumps on my tongue.
a fitting way to start my day... and first day with no radiation.
thank you G*D for creating senses! they are the poor man's wealth, the sick man's delight, and the rich man's toy. but they invite every one of us to enjoy the wonders of this life you've created... and anticipate a time when our taste buds will explode from your very presence... ...and everything will be as you always wanted it to be.
today was supposed to be my last one, but they goofed up and had to add a day.
i'm glad it's about over. the side effects haven't been too bad. certainly nothing compared to what i went through last summer. but still it's not been fun.
the fatigue has actually lessened a bit over this past week or two. they / i didn't expect that. so i'm thankful for all who prayed for energy.
i fully anticipated my armpit to be the biggest irritation problem, but it's been the part where my neck connects to my shoulder that's bothered me most. i started with pure aloe... moved to hydrocortizone... and graduated to silver sulfadiazine. maybe tomorrow they'll hand me a bottle of sweet baby rays.
i had a good talk with dr. soriano last week. actually... every week we have good talks. i'm thankful that i keep getting great doctors who take interest in more than my physical health... and allow me inside their heads a bit. what a huge responsibility they carry... and tremendous blessing they are.
it's kind of weird to think that something that is intentionally burning & damaging my skin is supposed to help heal me of skin cancer. of course... that's what's supposed to happen. there are no guarantees in the art of medicine.
a couple of weeks into all this, i started physical therapy. was that ever a good thing! i didn't realize how all the surgeries had affected my arm. on top of the muscles damaged from 5 incisions and resulting scar tissue... the 10 months of lifting nothing more than a jug of milk had weakened my right arm substantially. then slowly i've felt the radiation tightening things down, further restricting my range... but the p.t. has helped to keep it from getting worse than it was. my range is improving slightly... and they're retraining muscles to compensate for those that were weakened or removed.
thankfully it's not the painful kind of rehab like after some shoulder surgeries. i guess this is supposed to help me from getting to that point. seems to be working so far.
i'm not sure how it's all going to end in the morning. do they give you a radiation cake? usually each morning when the tech leaves the room, i wait for that familiar buzz that tells everyone the beam is activated... then i pray for my m&m buddy, kris. but i'm trying to come up with something special for my last day.
i told one of the techs that sometimes when i hear that little buzz... i'm tempted to start screaming at the top of my lungs... "aaaahhhh!!! turn it off!!! turn it off!!! something's gone wrong!!!"
but my wife doesn't think that would be very funny.
thanks G*D, for helping me through this last 7 weeks. and now as i wait for whatever is next... let me wait in confidence & peace... knowing that these days are more about healing & moving forward than i could ever understand.
