In Sickness and In Health: Part 1

In sickness and in Health 1

I remember standing before Pastor Herb Cottington in First Methodist Church, downtown Atlanta and saying those words to my soon to be wife.  We have heard them in every wedding ceremony.  We talked about it when we did premarital counseling.  But the meaning of those words have little impact until the day comes.

When one of you becomes sick, I mean really sick, it can be a game changer for your relationship.  The first real time that this happened for us was back in 2007.  It was a Sunday, and I was not feeling well.  I was sure I had a stomach bug.  We went to church as normal.  I spent half of the service in the bathroom.  The children’s ministry had a guest speaker and my wife and I went out to lunch with them.  I felt so bad I could not eat.  More trips to the restroom at the restaurant.  Still thought it was just a stomach bug.

On the way home, I started talking about maybe I needed to go to urgent care.  But we both took a wait and see approach.  After all, it had to be a stomach bug.  When I got home, I was starting to feel light-headed.  I went to our guest bathroom so my wife would not catch whatever this was.

The next thing I remember hearing was my wife’s voice in near hysteria talking on the phone.  Apparently, I passed out and fell to the floor.  What I thought was just a stomach bug was a bad bleeding ulcer.  I was pumping blood out at an alarming rate.

The paramedics arrived and got me started on two IVs and drove me to the hospital.  I vaguely remember this part.  I know I cracked a few jokes with the paramedics and was generally a decent patient.  I had trouble concentrating and generally felt awful.

My wife had to follow me to the hospital.  She was not sure what was happening to me.  All she knew was she saw her husband of nearly 16 years bleeding a fountain of blood out of a place where blood should not be coming out of.  She was frightened and was unsure what to do.

She called her Mom and the children’s pastor from our church.  They and some friends came to support her.  At the hospital, she was witness to the doctor getting a panicked look and grabbing my IV bag and giving it a big squeeze to force more fluid into me.  I think I remember that part but it is rather blurry in my memory.

I was carted off to surgery, and they cauterized the ulcer.  While I came close to bleeding out, we made it just in time and had good doctors taking care of us.  I still see the GI Doctor who did my ulcer surgery.  He is treating my Ulcerative Colitis now.

The thing is, when your spouse is sick, really sick, it takes a toll on your marriage.  With us, I am blessed that I don’t remember injuries that much.  I don’t remember what it felt like when I broke my hand in college.  I can’t tell you what strep throat feels like (until I get it the next time).  I block those things out.  My wife on the other hand, has vivid memories of I think every injury she has ever had.

So when I get sick, she quizzes me on what does it feel like?  My responses are hardly satisfactory.  “I don’t know, I just don’t feel good.”  We have two polar opposite experiences with pain and sickness.  Neither one is wrong.  It is how we process these events.

What needs to happen is making sure we keep communicating with each other through the process.  My wife is at a point now where any little face I make makes her nervous as she thinks there may be a hospital visit in the offing.  (More on why that is later.)

One system we have come up with is making a comparative scale from 1 to 10.  10 being that pain or hurt where a hospital visit is probably necessary, while 1 is “yeah, I stubbed my toe and I’ll get over it in a minute.  Just let me swear and get it out of my system.”

The problem was, I didn’t want my wife to worry.  But holding back what was going on, did not help.  I had to recognize my wife’s need to understand where I am at in terms of health.  How to differentiate between something that is bad (bleeding ulcer) versus something minor (rolled ankle).  Sure the second example hurts like crazy, but it is something that you can recover quickly from.

We each have needs when it comes to the health of our spouse.  We need to know how the other is doing in a significant way.  We don’t want to be treated like we are fragile and will break if we try to do something.  We need to fell useful and that we can still contribute.

If those needs are not being met, walls build up between us and the concern that we once felt turns to apathy. “Well if they don’t want my help, why should I care?”  That is a dangerous place to be.  Thus far, I think we have successfully avoided apathy.  Not to say we have not had some intense discussions about it, but honestly, sickness is stressful to both the sick person and those that love them.

An occasional “intense discussion” can actually be a pressure release valve.  Keep it on topic and know that you love each other and that is why you are having the discussion in the first place.  Those parameters can keep things from escalating into something you don’t want.  It also keeps them shorter and you are able to hug it out afterwards.

What is standing between you and your spouse? Is there a sickness physical or otherwise that is standing between you?  What do you do to prevent apathy?

When Nothing Seems to Work – A Guys View of Infertility

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My wife and I have been married for twenty-four years with our twenty-fifth anniversary coming up in August.  I remember when we were dating; she wanted to have a house full of children and most importantly, little girls.  At the time, the thought frightened me a great deal, but we both agreed that we wanted to be just married for a while before starting a family.

The problem was for us, we both wanted children.  The time just kept slipping by us.  After about eight years of marriage, we started to actively trying.  There were doctor visits and tests run.  They diagnosed my wife with PCOS.  We both had weight issues that didn’t help us out.

After fifteen years of marriage, a new door opened.  We started the process of attempting to adopt.  I had no problems with this since I was adopted myself.  I remember my parents telling me how special I was and that they choose me because I was special.  We could do this.

Heartbreak came as we were driving up to meet the mother and baby when we received a call that the mother changed her mind and decided to keep the baby.  This really hit us both hard.  We started to believe nothing we could do would get us to our dream of being parents.

I distinctly remember that November falling to my knees in the bathroom sobbing.  I knew that our dream was shut off from us.  After all, we were both getting close to being forty years old.  At that point, I might as well change my name to Abraham.

In that moment of brokenness, which I did not even tell my wife about for over a year, I was praying.  I surrendered myself and said, this is my dream but if it’s not God’s will, I am fine with that and I will still serve God.  His will be done and not mine.

That was a defining moment.  I sat there with the shattered remnant of our dreams of a family.  What could I do? Be bitter or angry about it?  Blame God?  Give up?  I probably went through all of these at one point.  In the end, I chose to press on and accept that I have no control over the situation.

Now, you may have noticed from other posts, that we have a son.  This was our miracle child.  Everything about this boy filled me with awe and wonder.  First off, that he was conceived at all was a miracle.   Both of us took ill, but not at the same time.  My wife was sick first and was in terrible shape.  By the time she got better there was a one day window before I got the ick and was laid low.  Well, that one window of opportunity seemed to be enough.

The day we found out that my wife was pregnant, she received a call from her Dad that her Grandmother in Arkansas had just passed away.  We were both saddened by the news.  I really liked her.  She was sharp as a tack even though she was ninety-eight.  She knew everything that was going on in the family—especially the things folks tried to shield her from.  She had a marvelous spirit, and I always enjoyed being around her.  She made me feel welcome.

We were visiting my mother in Tampa at the time and I had bought my wife tickets to the Tampa Bay Bucs game.  She loves football and was trying to enjoy the game and mourn her Grandmother at the same time.  I don’t remember much about the game other than having the feeling of what else can go wrong.  We dropped our camera into a cup of Sprite.

My wife started to feel nauseous and on our way home, she bought a pregnancy test.  I remember her saying that it was a waste of time and money as it couldn’t be that.  Let’s just say that when we got back to my Mom’s house, she ended up using every test in the box as she could not believe the results.

More to the point, she refused to believe it until she saw a doctor.  But, when we flew to Arkansas for the funeral, my wife whispered in her Grandmother’s ear, “We’re pregnant.”  This was the only person she had told.  I was under strict orders to keep my trap shut about it.

Sure enough, the doctor’s visit in January confirmed, she was pregnant.  The pregnancy was not an easy one.  We had a couple hospital visits as our boy wanted to come early.  During the delivery, my wife’s blood pressure was a roller coaster, and the baby was in distress resulting in a C-Section.  The whole time I had a feeling like I was holding my breath.  Would this actually happen?  But standing there that day, holding my new-born son was like nothing I ever could imagine.

But what about my wife’s dream of having many children and daughters?  She could not be happier.  She never knew she could love like she does our son.  The dream of multiple children had ended.  Last year, my wife had to have a hysterectomy.  The blessing was that they found cancer but got all of it with the procedure.

The difficult part in the journey is learning contentment.  Paul wrote “I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content in any circumstance.  I have experienced times of need and times of abundance. In any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of contentment, whether I go satisfied or hungry, have plenty or nothing.  I am able to do all things through the one who strengthens me.”

I don’t think contentment is easy.  Surely it can hurt during the rough times.  But the acceptance of the situation for what it is, leads to peace.  When you have peace in your circumstances, there is an opportunity to turn things around. Strive for more but be content with where you are.

What circumstances do you have that you are having difficulty finding contentment in? This was mine, I’d like to hear about yours.

Creative Memories

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My wife is an avid scrapbooker.  She has a desire to document what we do as a family and create a record of the fun times we have together as a family.  I am less of a photograph friendly person, but I love the books that my wife puts together.  They really do bring back the great memories of what we have done together.

My Dad was the opposite.  He did not take many pictures.  He did not write about the things we did together.  But he made an effort to craft situations and times together that will stick with me for all of my life.  My father was a Dad of the old school type.  When he came home from work, you let him read the paper and chill out before dinner.  He wasn’t involved in everything I did.

Take Cub Scouts for example.  We recently had the pinewood derby for my son’s pack.  He did well and got second place in best of show for the pack and won first place in the district.  The two of us worked on the project together.  The concept was all my son’s idea.  My wife took him to Hobby Lobby to find items to decorate the car.  I help him shape the car with power tools.  My wife and I were with him every step of the way.

My Dad was far more hands off.  He pointed to where the hand tools were and said it was my car. My cars drove like a brick and looked like a six-year-old made it.

But even though he was hands off with so many things, Saturday mornings were our time.  He always made breakfast while my Mom slept in.  He would get enthusiasms (it’s the only way I can think of describing it).  After taking me to see Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, he ran off to an Indian food grocery store and came back with a can of squid in the ink he tried to serve for breakfast the next Saturday.  The man had the stomach of a goat and could eat anything.  I didn’t get that gift.

One Saturday, he woke me up and said we are making donuts.  We spent about three hours together making donuts.  I had no idea if he had sat and planned it.  I just know I got to spend those hours with my Dad making donuts.  They were the best donuts I had ever eaten.  We did this exactly once.

Other mornings, he would set up an old movie projector in the garage.  While he worked, I was right there with him and he showed me old Woody Woodpecker cartoons and Tarzan movies he had in an old box.  He had these since he was a child with some dating back to the 1930s.

But what stuck out most in my mind, were our camping trips.  My Dad and I would go on these road trips from Tampa to North Carolina.  We would camp each night but on the way to the main campground, we would do these little side trips.  We saw the infantry museum at Fort Benning and the Special Forces Museum at Fort Bragg.  He would tell me stories about growing up during the Great Depression.  He would talk about his experiences as a Boy Scout.  One of his merit badges he was proud of was Animal Husbandry.

He told me stories about BB Gun fights and rubber band wars he and his friends fought.  They broke into teams and tried to recreate the battles they saw in the newsreels during the Second World War.

While Dad didn’t invest time in me on a daily basis, the time he invested was high quality.  It was time I valued and craved.  I learned about who my Dad was what he did growing up and how much the world had changed.  What sticks with me the most is how I long for just one more conversation with him.  Dad passed away in 1999.  But those memories are with me to this day and are brighter and more vivid than a professional photo.

I want to leave the same for my son.  I don’t want to hold anything back from him.  Now there are some stories he won’t hear from me until it is age appropriate, but I want him to know me for who I am and who I was.  Obviously, the Elementary School version of us is not the same as the High School version which, in turn, is different from the Adult version.  I want to leave him knowing I love him no matter what, the way my Dad did for me.

My Dad would tell me he was proud of me.  He told me he loved me.  He showed me by the time we spent together.  I remember him looking at me in the eye and saying, “This is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased.”  Given where he got it, I always felt special.  It’s now my job to pass that on to my boy in my actions, words and time.

Fumble

American Football on the Field
American Football on the Field with room for copy

No matter who you are, at some point, you will get it wrong.  That is a rather liberating statement.  NFL great Jerry Rice was an unbelievably talented player.  During his career from 1985 to 2004 he scored 197 touchdowns.  In the games I watched him play, he seemed to be able to do no wrong.  Yet, his stats show otherwise.  The same Jerry Rice that scored 197 touchdowns also fumbled the ball nineteen times.  Nobody is perfect.

I am only human.  As such, I inevitably make mistakes.  As a parent, my son is constantly watching me.  He is young enough he wants to be like me.  He will imitate me in the way I do things, talk and interact with others.  When I stop to think about that, it is truly frightening.  I know who I am and I am far from perfect.

There are those little lessons we are given the opportunity to share with our kids that come along when we mess up.  The other day, I was not having a good day.  I wasn’t feeling great; my patience had been worn thin and I was grumpy by that time of the day.  I love my son.  He is probably one of the greatest parts of my life.  Yet as an eight-year-old, he can be an eight-year-old.  I think he was playing after I had asked him to get his shoes on.  He kept on playing and I asked again for him to get his shoes on.  Did a few other things to get ready for the day and when I came back in the living room, you can guess who did not have their shoes on.

Being on the grumpy side I barked at him far in excess of what he did not do.  I caught myself and had to step back.  He hurried and put his shoes on and I could see it hurt him.  My son loves to please.  He has a very tender heart and is caring towards others.  My words, spoke in anger, hurt him.

I immediately stopped what I was doing, went to him and knelt down so I could look him in the eye.  I apologized to him.  I acknowledged that I over reacted and shouldn’t have spoken in anger to him and asked his forgiveness.  I hugged him tightly and told him I love him very much and that I overreacted.

I cannot expect my son to own up to his mistakes if I don’t own up to mine.  He needs to see me take ownership of my mistake and how I handle them as positively as possible.  Everyone makes mistakes.  It is how we deal with our mistakes that builds character.

One of my favorite Bible stories is that of King David.  God called him a “man after his own heart.”  Yet, King David was as capable of making mistakes as anyone.  Heck, he had a man killed so he could take his wife.  What I love about David is how he handled his mistakes.  Throughout Psalms and the books of Samuel, we see David own up to what he did wrongHe pours his heart out before God.  David doesn’t shift blame or make excuses.  He owns his mistakes.  That is the example I want to set for my son.  To own my mistakes and move forward trying to not repeat them.

How do you handle your mistakes?  Do your children see how you handle them or do you keep it hidden from them?  Who do you look to as an example of what to do when you get it wrong?

You So Poor, You Can’t Even Pay Attention – Keeping Focus on What’s Important

Life is full of distractions.  Often the tools we have that make life easier can become a burden to us and our relationships around us.  For example, the cell phone is a marvelous tool.  With it, I have a calendar that ensures that reminds me of where I need to be and at what time I need to be there.  It keeps me connected with my family in that I can have nearly instant communication with my wife no matter where I am.  I can work from anywhere as I have email on it to communicate with my customers.  It is a powerful tool with more processing power in it than the mainframe computers used to send astronauts to the moon and back.

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Yet, what do we do with this powerful tool?  Engaging in activities which are time sucks.  You know what I am talking about.  Reading that click-bait article you found on Facebook, harvesting your carrots in Farmville, or posting pictures of your dessert on Twitter.  Are any of these activities bad in and of themselves?  No, of course not.  But when they distract us from being aware of those around us, they can harm our relationships, even when we are trying to do something useful for those around us.

Let me give you an example.  My wife asked me if she could use my PayPal Here device during an upcoming garage sale.  No problems, I said yes.  But, the new phone I have does not support the older PayPal Here device I have.  So I ran down the rabbit hole of looking for a solution.  There was an android tablet that could support the older device that I had.  I sat down while my wife and son were eating breakfast and worked on it.  Installing the app, I tested it.  I became so focused on what I was doing I lost track of what was going on around me.  There my family was sitting in near silence eating while they saw me work on a tablet ignoring them.

To make matters worse, my wife asked me a question I did not even register she asked until I stood up to go use the restroom.  I had become so engrossed in what I was doing; I did not hear my wife even though she was just a few feet from me.  Needless to say that was not meeting my wife’s needs.  When I asked what she had said, I got the dreaded “nothing” answer.

How do you recover from falling into the pit you dug for yourself?  Now this was not the first time I had been so engrossed in something I missed out on what was going on around me.  What can I do?  Well, first acknowledge that I was way too engrossed in what I was doing.

Second, own up to not doing it at an appropriate time.  I should have waited until after my wife and son were doing something else.  One of my goals for this year is to be more intentional about family time.  Put up the phone/tablet/laptop/book/new shiny thing of the day and focus on who I am with when they are with me.  Had it been a situation where there was 20 minutes to the start of the garage sale that might have been different provided I told my wife what I was up to.  But there was plenty of time.  It could have waited.

Third, demonstrate that I am trying to learn from my mistakes.  Wanting to change does not make the change happen.  If desire was all it took, life would be pretty easy.  One thing I am looking to do is to have a basket.  When family time occurs (meals, movie night, times when we are just hanging out), I want to put my electronic tools in the basket.  This way my family has a visual I am being intentional about protecting my time with them.  Words can’t have as great a healing effect without an action to show they are at work.  James wrote that faith without works is dead.  So too can our words be dead if we don’t back them up with actions to show we are trying to change the negative behavior.

Fourth, be careful of being defensive.  This is a problem for me.  What I may view as giving a reason for what I did may just be an excuse to the person receiving it.  The best intentions mean nothing if you are not accounting for how the other person receives what you are doing.  It is human nature want to justify our actions.  It is easy to see ourselves as the victim as we were “just trying to…”  What I have found is any time I try to justify my actions, it’s received as negating my wife’s feelings.  That is not my intent.  It is not an easy thing to stop and attempt to evaluate what my wife is feeling when you are “in the moment.”  Human nature wants to win the argument.  But that strategy is doomed to fail and everyone loses.  But when I stop and take the time to evaluate and try to put myself in her shoes, the results turn out better.  Arguments are never easy and always uncomfortable.  But it can mitigate the pain when you try to understand what the other person is feeling.

What is it you do to pay attention to your family?  How do you avoid distraction?  What are your time sucks that pull you away from those who mean the most to you?

Hello World

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Back in the day, when I first learned the Basic Programming language, one of the first programs you learned to write was the Hello World program.  It was a useless program that just printed the words “Hello World” onto the monitor of your computer.  To put things into perspective, that was back in the day when you still had to type out line numbers for Basic.  Yes, that was a long time ago.

But a blog, like learning a programming language, has to start somewhere. Thank you for visiting. This project was several years in the making.  The title comes from an email conversation I had with someone at least a decade ago. I had given him my opinion on something and he responded with something like, “now there are real pearls of wisdom.” I wasn’t as confident about that and my response was, “Well, more like marbles of opinion.” His enthusiastic response imprinted on my mind ever since.

I hope you will take the time and join me as I try to become the parent my child deserves rather than the one he has.

What I am looking to do is talk about experiences I have had dealing with marriage, fatherhood and faith. Anyone with sense will quickly wonder: what my qualifications are to be an expert on these subjects?

The answer is none other that what I have experienced. In no way shape or form do I claim to be an expert.  Far from it.  Instead, I view myself as a perpetual student who hopes he is learning from his mistakes.

I have several decades of experience in marriage (celebrated my 26th anniversary in 2018). I have only one child, but I think he is pretty special. And I have my beliefs. This blog is a journey of what I am learning about being a husband and a father to the two most important people in my life.

My experiences may differ from yours and that’s OK. I hope you can learn from my mistakes (I’ve made many) and share a few things I have learned along the way.

The traditional marriage vows include “in sickness and in health.” In twenty-six years, we have managed a good deal of both. It has been an exciting journey and I hope I can share it with you.