My "Almost" Last Day

If you have read some of my previous posts, you know that in what feels like another life, I was a firefighter.  I have a love/hate relationship with that part of my past; a lot of good came from that time, and a lot of pain came from that time.

Sometimes the most mundane acts can trigger a memory, and suddenly I am right back in the midst of my past.  It used to paralyze me; I would lock up for about five minutes or so, not really engaging in what I had been doing at the time the memory hit.  Fortunately, that has subsided, and I have been able to take valuable lessons out of what I have experienced when I remember those things.  

I share this story because it is full of lessons for me, and I hope it contains a lesson or two* for you.  As for what those are, I might save that for another post and let you think about it for a while.
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Last night (8.21.12) as I was walking through a parking lot it was the warm night air that sent me back to a sunny day several years ago that, without wanting to sound dramatic, was almost the last day I was alive.

Occasionally, the fire department assisted the forestry department with "controlled burns," which took place when land needed to be cleared without hauling loads and loads of timber away.  Instead of hoses, we carried drip torches and shovels, and large bulldozers would create fire breaks and clearings to prevent the fire from spreading beyond the intended area.

One day, I joined a few other firefighters and a couple of forestry guys to burn trees that were in piles about 100'x100' and between 25' and 40' tall on about ten or 12 acres of land.  This was the largest controlled burn I had been involved with.  I don't recall the temperature, but it was hot and the sun was shining.  We normally wore jeans, boots and t-shirts to stay as protected, but as cool as we could.

After we lit the piles, we watched to make sure they were burning evenly and fully.  Fire sometimes creates it's own weather, and I watched as "tornados" of flame shot up and twirled around in the air, the wind picked up and frequently changed direction, and the sunlight became dull under a thickening blanket of white smoke.  I pulled my shirt over my nose every couple of minutes as the air became slightly acrid. 

The forestry department brought a 4-wheeler because of the size of the land we were burning, and after we all regrouped another firefighter decided to drive along the outside edge to check on the piles we could not see.  The rest of us waited for about ten minutes, and I began to worry that something may have gone wrong.  I began to walk around the outside perimeter of the land to check on the other firefighter.  As soon as I got to the end of the first pile, I decided I needed to get a better vantage point, so I walked through the fire break (dirt path) between the first and second piles toward the center of the property.  I very quickly realized that because of the heat and the smoke and the fact that no one could see me and I did not have a radio, this was a horrible idea.  I immediately and calmly began to return to the group.  Instead of going back to the outside of the property, however, I walked between two more piles in the direction of the group.  No one could see me, and no one knew exactly where I had gone.

After about ten or 20 seconds (I guess) of walking toward safety, the heat and smoke became unbearable and my reality instantly changed.  Walking through that heat had drawn every ounce of energy from my body, and I was thoroughly exhausted.  The first thought I had was "How in the world do I have absolutely no energy left?"

Then, a second thought locked in my mind; "I am too tired, this is too hot and I can't make it back.  I am going to lay down right here right now and just die."  I am not in any way exaggerating or dramatizing that.  As mind-boggling as it is, that thought was the only thing that made sense.  The heat was so intense that I did not care that I had about 20 more feet to walk to safety (I could actually hear the other firefighters' and forestry guys' voices), and I was ready - without any second thought - to lay down and die.  I cannot express more plainly or seriously that as strange as it seems, my desire to live was completely gone.  I stopped walking and began to bend my knees toward the ground.

As soon as I bent my right knee, I heard a new voice.  It was the firefighter I had been looking for, and it came from the area we both started out from.  That voice was like a shot of common sense and courage, and I stood back up and dragged myself up the hill those last 20 or so feet.  It was the most difficult walk I have ever made.  Every step felt like a mile, and the thirst I felt was the strongest I've experienced.

Everyone was there, safe and sound, myself included.  I did not tell anyone what had happened moments before, and this is the first time I've shared this experience with anyone.

It is my prayer that relating my experience might be used to encourage and inspire, and that those who read this will find their own lessons...







*I give all the glory to God for saving me that day, and He is at the center of every lesson that came from this experience.

Anti-Rant

"Venting," despite popular opinion, is never okay.  This fact is quite disappointing to me on a regular basis.  We all know the examples; traffic, arguments, injustice, no hot water for the shower, and the list goes on.

Honestly, when I began to write this post, I wanted to vent.  I wanted to tell everyone in an indirect way about how I feel I've been wronged.  I wanted to subtly point out the error in someone else's ways.  What I really wanted to do, though, is point at a speck in someone else's eye rather than acknowledging the plank in my own.  I was immediately convicted.  Instead of following through with typing out a scathing, satirical list of what I don't like about x, y and z, I did something completely unusual.  I prayed that I would stop being so selfish and God would enable me to constantly understand that none of what I do or experience is about me, but that it is about God's Kingdom and the lost who need to come through its gates.

The way God convicts me of sin at the outset of temptation amazes me.  It also encourages me because it is clear evidence of God's restoring work in my life.

If I think "life isn't fair" because I have to sit in traffic for three hours (not anymore since I left the DC area) or if I feel used, beat up or hurt by a friend, coworker or family member, God reminds me that there are people in underground churches across this world that would give anything to sit in traffic in the United States - while they are driving to church, which meets in a building everyone can find, the government knows about, and no one gets killed in.

Reminders

When things are going well it is too easy to forget about all the challenges I have experienced and the way God has been faithful to carry me through them.

My faith has been strengthened beyond my imagination over the past two years, but if I neglect that faith and fail to nurture it I am no better off than I was two years ago. When God removes distractions (which for me included my previous job, environment, and way of thinking and living), you can't help but put every ounce of trust in Him or deny His sovereignty. There is an investment that takes place when you truly rely on God for your daily bread. His word becomes that much more vibrant and real, almost three dimensional.

I do my very best to keep a healthy, humble perspective on where I am in my walk with Christ and how I relate with others. Lately, I have not done the best job of maintaining that perspective, and it has played out in several instances over the past couple of weeks. The subtlety of sin and pride is quite dangerous and costly. I need to remember God's faithfulness, trustworthiness and His promises to combat my selfishness, sometimes by the minute. Jesus' example - a completely blameless man being punished for my sin - should shake us all to the core. He is the only one who could have taken that on - not only because He is God's son, but because no other man in history would stay silent in that situation. No other man would have the fortitude to completely disregard their sense of injustice for the good of another. Jesus did that and much more than I will ever understand.

I often tell people I love my job, what I get to do and where I get to work and serve, but I rarely say why. Yes, it is because I have a passion for creative work, but it goes far deeper than that. What I do reminds me of an answered prayer that I began to pray years ago. "God, use me to reach those far from you."

My motivation to do everything I do is and must remain that of helping people see how God has changed my life radically for His good and glory - and to serve as a beacon of hope and a reminder to those far away from Him that God will never give up on reaching them. The fact that I am able to do that through creating videos and leading worship far outweighs any material reward. I pray that one day my life will serve as a reminder to someone that God is everything they need.

Social Media is Wierd

In recent months, I've come to realize how strange social media can be (or more accurately, how strange my life has become). For instance, I was browsing Facebook this morning, saw a picture of a friend, went to the friend's profile and it occurred to me that s/he is now either separated or divorced. I approve friend requests from people I barely spoke with when I (vaguely recall) knew them in "real life". Then I completely ignore their posts, etc. because I have no idea who they are.

I now feel the urge to wish a happy birthday to people I don't know personally - thanks to the convenience of typing two little words (with the most exciting bit of punctuation my little heart desires added at the end to impart of sense of heartfelt warmth the cold depths of the Internet so often sucks away from communication) into a box on the right hand corner of my screen.

I wake up and instantly look at my phone to browse TweetDeck for nuggets of excitement - usually lacking - and then realize with deep-seated conviction that I haven't read my "analog" bible in weeks. I read YouVersion's awesome bible app, but there is something about reading God's word in something bound in leather that makes a difference for me.

Social Media (wow, I just capitalized it) has it's place in society and is a very useful method of communication, but I feel it is in danger of one day becoming an almost laughable platform for self-advertisement... And then there are the news agencies - I don't even want to begin to discuss the way I've seen them place stock in what John and Jane Doe tweet or post to Facebook and how utterly disappointing that is.

Well, it's been at least five minutes since I've been on Facebook and it appears I have five new notifications, so I better wrap this up.

Necessary Illness

I have been ill for the past five days. Nothing really definitive - just a general feeling of congestion, inability to focus, weakness and a sore throat. The thing is, being sick has become exhausting. I was exhausted while sick, and now I am exhausted because I was sick (if that makes any sense).

I have quickly learned that what I do is the most time-intensive thing I have ever engaged in. For a while, it took a long time to make videos because I was learning how to make the software work (not to mention the lingo, techniques, processes). Now, it takes a long time because I am a perfectionist and the stunning, astonishingly creative images and sequences I see in my head and my dreams never seem to make it into my work (try as they might).

I would love to have the plight of the Amish - who intentionally include slight errors in their furniture-making to remind themselves that only God is perfect... Currently, I have all the errors with none of the intentionality. I suppose that is because God knows me better than I know myself. And then there is the issue of trying too hard. I am a proficient guitar player - but I've been playing the guitar since I was eight years old. I too often compare my editing, motion design, and compositing abilities to my musicianship - and it leads to nothing but frustration. Not the "I'm never going to be good enough" frustration; rather the fleeting "I should know how to do this without having to try ten different methods" type... Playing the guitar is comfortable now - almost second-nature, but I recall a moment in time (three or four days after learning to strum my first chord) when I decided that I was never going to pick up a guitar again.

Now, I began this post with the idea that I got sick because I was working too hard and too many hours - and intended to tout the positive aspects of rest and recovery; which I still believe is the case. However, it seems the point of all this has become an encouragement of sorts - that although I've been staring at After Effects for the past hour with no ideas coming to mind, I'll eventually get it.

So, if you are reading this and have been working and working and working at something for hours, days, weeks, or even years without seeing any results - be encouraged and embrace the process.

And if I Never Know You, Let Me Feel the Lack

This weekend, Katie and I traveled to VA Beach to be a part of the wedding of two close friends. We've known this couple for around 8 years now, and their wedding was awesome. We were truly humbled and honored to be asked to be involved. The story of their relationship is worth a lengthy blog, itself, but that's not my story to tell. Trust me, though - it's amazing.

On the drive home - or at least to the hotel in Roanoke Rapids, it started to hit me - that slight knot in my gut. I couldn't put my finger on it right away, but after driving another hour, and singing along to a few more songs on the 80's XM station (specifically Cyndi Lauper and Belinda Carlisle) contributing to my nostalgia, I realized I miss my friends (It didn't help that we drove through a tornado, either). Now, you may wonder why I say it that way - and I will explain. I love all my friends, but I realized on the way to North Myrtle Beach that subconsciously, I assume everyone else freezes in time after I stop interacting with them on a daily or weekly basis, and nothing changes - with the exception of the exciting things I happen to do afterwards. This is obviously foolish and short-sighted of me, but I imagine it is a protective mechanism I've developed some time ago after moving a few times as a kid.

Anyway, this weekend was wrapped up in so many emotions I cannot begin to summarize everything it brought on for me. As with most events like this, the time was too short, and there was much left unsaid by me to those I wanted to reconnect with - I wanted it to feel "like old times," but we've gotten older - most of us have gotten married, moved, changed careers, had kids, and are living in different states.

I think I've spent too much of my life trying not to feel anything that I am fighting regret and guilt for omissions - times when I could have done more, said more, or just been there for my friends... I spoke with an older gentlemen after the reception who told me how much he enjoyed knowing me and Katie, and that most of his friends were either dead or suffering from dementia or Alzheimer's... He said, "At my age, this might be the last time I see you." It was then that I was reminded yet again that though God leads us in different directions, we are all capable of loving regardless of geography and all that stuff that we allow to distract us - and time waits for no one.

As I move into new phases of my life and continue to make new, close friends, I am adding a priority - to hold onto my relationships as tightly as I can no matter what.

I wrote a song a loooong time ago that had this line in it: "And if I never know you, let me feel the lack." I had no idea what I meant by that when I wrote it - it just sounded cool, but I think it is appropriate to this situation.

With that said, I love all of my friends and I always will, no matter what distance or time finds itself between us. Also, don't hate on Cyndi or Belinda.

Time is Money?

I keep thinking this is going to be over soon. In the midst of every complaint that comes to my mind, God makes me acutely aware that things could always be worse.

When I was in heretoday, we played a few shows with a band called Slingshot 57. These guys were genuine, excellent musicians and strong Christ followers. In fact, Paul, their bass player, is now in Run Kid Run. At one show, they had a table with about 20 little info cards with pictures of kids who needed help. I asked Paul what they were for, and he explained they had partnered with Mission of Mercy to sponsor children. I took a look at the cards and decided to sponsor a little girl in a different country (details omitted because this is the interwebs). I wasn't making much money at the time (sadly, I was making more then than I am right now), but I decided it was worth it to help someone out and maybe develop a relationship with someone so far away and in so much need. I'll explain why this is important to my situation in a bit.

During the past eight months, I have had to cling to God more tightly than ever before in my life for everything. When I was offered a job, I foolishly thought that would be the end of my troubles and that Katie and I would soon be returning to our comfortable lives with plenty to save, give and spend. The reality is that I am now working at home for 100% commission, and I have not earned a penny. I was working in the office for the first couple of months, but the environment was such that on Sunday afternoons I would begin to experience chest pains that intensified on Monday mornings, and did not subside until I was home in the afternoons. I spoke with the owner, who said I could work from home for commission, which to me is better than the alternative of not working at all or potentially having an MI while at the office.

It is a strange dynamic to be thankful to God for everything while fighting the temptation to be frightened out of my wits about how the next month's bills are going to be paid. I have tried to explain this to Katie... how I can be calm in the midst of all this. It is not easy, and it is certainly not easy for her. Right now, we believe Katie is being called to serve as much as she can with the church as opposed to working for a paycheck. This really does not make sense to a lot of people - especially given the circumstances. When I am faced with odd looks after this is discussed I am reminded of the rich young ruler. Jesus never told anyone who asked him what they should do to save their money, keep their belongings, accrue wealth, or buy a nice house. He said to sell it all, give the money to the poor and follow him. I am convicted of that almost daily when I wake up in my king size bed, walk into the living room to play games on my XBox which is hooked up to my 50" TV and 5.1 surround sound system; or work on videos, music, etc. on this iMac and am then tempted to pity myself. That girl in that other country lives in a house made of concrete blocks. I am ashamed to tell her what I do with my time. I am embarrassed at the relative wealth I have compared to the wage her father makes and struggles to support his family with. I never had the need to be sponsored as a child, and for that I am grateful.

On the other side of this, Katie and I have been involved with Barefoot Church here in North Myrtle Beach. I cannot explain how it is that we are in nearly identical positions with this church as we were at Stafford Crossing after being here for less than two months. When I am at Barefoot, I know I am doing what God has given me to do for now. It is the boat, and everything else is the storm. My job situation, finances, car, future, dreams... all of it feels like the wind that distracted Peter and caused him to doubt. I cannot take my focus from Jesus and place it on the wind. I can never do that because Jesus is the only one keeping me above water.

He is my only hope. I know I am alive right now and I am exactly where I am locationally, physically, spiritually and emotionally because God wants me here. Today, I was going through mail we've received and haven't been able to look at since the move. I found a letter from that little girl in that other country.

I was having a mini-freak out session internally at the time, and I started to read the letter. Next to what she had written in her vernacular were three translated words in the middle of the page: "I love you." I have never seen this girl in person, I have never been to where she is and I may never see her face to face. All I know is that God loves her the same as He loves me, and He is providing for both of us every day.

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God."