Sinking Deep - Into Light

Last weekend was our church retreat.  Right before leaving for it, I met with my counselor, Hailey, and told her how apprehensive I was, going to the retreat.  I told her that I just didn’t feel like I fit in, I don’t belong.  As I noted in my last blog post, I’ve felt this way more and more at Shallowford Presbyterian Church and at Ebb and Flow Yoga Studio, my two favorite places in the world.  I just don’t feel like I deserve being at either place, I’m not worthy to be there.   So, the retreat created a sense of unease in me, how do I navigate through it?

Hailey asked that, and also suggested maybe I could do what comes most natural for me at the moment, or what makes me feel most comfortable, do things for people.  Laurel and I arrived at the retreat, and since Laurel was on the planning committee, we got there early and were able to help set up.  This was great.  And then, a wonderful opportunity came.  Bradley Kibler, our Associate Pastor and the organizer of the retreat, said we needed someone to vacuum the floor of the large room we were using.  Yes!  What a great opportunity to serve, and also serve in a very nondescript manner.

As a small preface, this retreat’s theme was “The Power of Movement”.  We are transitioning to a new head pastor in about a month, and with any transition, you have change.  The theme was adapting, dealing with change, envisioning what we will look like in the future.  We worked in a large group a part of the time, and in small groups a part of the time.  We had lots of great exercises and lots of great discussion.

This retreat started in a much different manner for me.  I was really enjoying myself and even feeling like I fit in.  I was having great conversations with people, I was having a great time in my small group, I was bonding with people I really didn’t know that well before the retreat, this was going far beyond my expectations.  I was feeling comfortable, I was feeling more at ease, I was feeling like I did fit in.

But then…..

Vickie Dieth, our retreat speaker, began our session right before lunch on Saturday, and she said that as she was preparing for this retreat, at one point God spoke to her.  And what God told her was slow down.  And she said while this retreat was about movement, and how this may seem contrary to our goals for the weekend, she wanted us to spend an hour or so alone in our thoughts, and she wanted us to talk to God, and listen to what God had to say to us.  She gave us various avenues to do this, she gave us watercolors to paint, crayons to draw, books to read, pictures to look at, she told us we could go for a walk, but we needed to silently focus on talking to God and listening to what God had to say.

I sunk rapidly.  In a certain sense, I’m not completely sure why, but I did.  I knew that this wouldn’t be good, I would sink back into depression if I had to spend time alone with myself, or even with God.  But, I followed the rules dutifully, and I chose using a picture to work from.  I had seen a picture the night before of a dock in the water, stretching out from darkness to light, and the picture really grabbed my attention.  So I took that picture, and I went outside to sit on a bench with my thoughts, and even though it was freezing outside (for me at least), I sat out there, and looked at that picture.  I also grabbed my Ipod, and listened to my “go to” song at the moment, Hillsong United’s “Another In the Fire”. 

As I anticipated, I started crying.  I sat there looking at that picture, stuck in the darkness, listening to “Another In the Fire”, and I kept focusing on my depression, and not getting past it.  While the song is so beautiful, I gravitate to one line in the song, “I'll count the joy come every battle, ‘Cause I know that's where You'll be”.  I’ve convinced myself that my depression is necessary, I need it to get closer to God, and when I dive deep, that’s where I’ll find God.  Yes, I know, my brain is lying to me, this isn’t a healthy reality, but that’s where I’ve been. 

I sat there, and I started journaling, and talking to God, and I wrote:

“It was going so well, Lord.  I was distracted, I was having fun.  And then you brought me back to reality.  And I had to confront my fears.  I had to be alone and live with myself.  Still stuck in the darkness, looking for the light.  Trying to get out of this rut called depression, anxiety, fear, hatred of myself.  Back to where I’m longing for the light.  I count joy in every battle, because I know that’s where you’ll be.  Is that my song?  Is that my life?  Do I have to go deep to find you?  Is this just who I am?  Is there nothing more?”

As the song ended, I was crushed.  I was back to reality, I was back to who I was.  But then, I decided to play the song again.  Now, I’ve listened to this song many, many times, but for some reason, I decided to listen again.  And I don’t know what happened, OK, I do, but it was amazing.  Something lit up inside of me, and all I can attribute it to was God listening to me, and answering me.  My writing went on:

“I can be better, I really can.  This doesn’t have to be me.  I’m not defined by what I’ve done.  I’m defined by who I am.  I can be a better me.  I just have to figure out how.  Listen to the whole song, Dumb Ass!  It’s about redemption!”

When we got back from the retreat, I had to fly to Mexico for a week of meetings.  I was going to pack a book to read on the plane, and I started to choose one on leadership, but I thought, no, I need to read one on religion.  I looked for “A Way Through the Wilderness”, a book I love, but I couldn’t find it, so I settled on Adam Hamilton’s “24 Hours That Changed the World”.  I had never read it, but Laurel had, and she really liked it.  And it was an awesome choice for me at the moment.

As I started reading it on my flight to Mexico City, early on, I came to a section titled “A Meal That Defines Us”.  In it, there were these lines:

“What memories define you?  Are there events or words that play over and over inside your head?.... Those things are not meant to define you.  There is something else, a larger story, that defines you.  For you and me as Christians, our defining story is accompanied by a meal and some important words: “On the night when he was betrayed, Jesus took a loaf of bread, and when He had given thanks, He broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you.  Do this in remembrance of me.’  In the same way He took the cup also, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood.  Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’  For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes.”

I oftentimes refer to those times when God speaks to me as “two by four” moments.  God knows I’m really not a good listener, so He has to smack me really hard across the head for me to listen.  As noted a few blogs ago, I had God speak to me through Pastor Rudy, and now I had two moments where I truly believe God is trying to get through my really thick head and get me to allow myself to forgive me. 

“There’s a slow, slow train comin’ up around the bend”

As I shared all of this with Hailey, my emotions were probably as strong as they’ve been since we started meeting.  But for once, we were starting on some good emotions.  As she noted, and she has an analogy for it, forgiveness is like a train, when you finally decide to forgive, that’s the engine starting up, but that forgiveness has to travel through all of the cars of the train, which represent many emotions, until finally, it reaches the caboose, and actual forgiveness happens.  When she shared that picture with me, I told her that the engine of my train was just starting to slowly work its way out of the station, it was currently moving at a turtle’s pace, but, it was moving forward.

For the first time, I left my counseling session feeling good.  For the first time, I felt like I was starting, ever so slowly, to be moving forward.  Hailey gave me an assignment, which was a real struggle for me to agree to, but I’m going to give it a shot.  As she said, “Even if you don’t believe it, it’s good to say something out loud and try to convince yourself of it.  Even if you know it’s a lie for the moment, say it out loud to yourself.”  After much debate and disagreement on the wording (I know, but I can’t help myself), I agreed to tell myself each day, “I’m moving toward forgiving myself”. 

As I’ve noted, I have a huge amount of thanks to give to Hailey, but as I’ve also noted, I truly believe God has had a hand in this.  Maybe God’s not through with me yet.

Sinking Deep - From Darkness

“But it’s a sad man my friend who’s livin’ in his own skin and can’t stand the company.”

After a few months of getting to know each other better, my counselor, Hailey, and I jointly decided it was time to take the plunge into the past and explore the roots of my depression.  We both knew it wouldn’t be a pleasant journey, but it was a journey we had to take, nonetheless, to try to move forward toward healing.

We headed back, way back to probably about 30 years ago, and we explored a life and a person I really didn’t know, and I definitely didn’t like.  We talked about those years, those events, and ultimately my abandonment of my family.  We explored what was happening and what led up to this.  But you know, it was the strangest thing, I couldn’t really recall much of the details.  It was kind of like the one time when I fell running, and all I can really remember was the fact I was lying on the ground, couldn’t remember how I got there or what happened, but I could remember how much it hurt.  We went through the same experience.  Hailey would question me about various points, timelines, etc., and I really couldn’t remember much of anything.  I was actually sitting there shaking, it was such a painful experience to go through.  I had shut this part of my life out completely, except for the global fact of abandoning my family, and it was hard and painful to recollect any of the details. 

After that, I plunged deeply, it was too painful to go through it.  I still agree, it had to be done, but it opened up some deep wounds.  As we got back together and discussed it, Hailey assured me that this was normal and expected.  I had stuffed this pain down and kept shoving it down for 30 years.  We had just started digging it out, and unfortunately, we never really did anything to heal it, we just left that open wound sitting there exposed. 

As we talked about it more, I realized how much I hated that person I was, and while it may be self-evident for many, it’s hard to go through life with so much hate inside, especially for yourself.  Have you ever gone through those exercises where you imagine someone sitting in front of you, a loved one, a friend, a colleague, someone you don’t particularly like, and you imagine smiling at them and giving them a big hug and telling them how much you love and appreciate them?  I’ve done that before, and I went through that exercise with Hailey, and where I always fail, is with myself.  When it comes time to visualize myself, smile, give myself a big hug, and say I love you, I just can’t bring myself to do it.

Hailey and I have gone through the discussions, if someone does something wrong to you, do you forgive them?  Of course, we all screw up.  Do you believe God forgives you?  Of course, He forgives us all.  Do you forgive yourself?  Well, that’s another matter altogether.  I know, I know, I know, logic doesn’t work here, and I get that.

As noted, we opened up a huge, gaping wound, and it’s going to take some time to figure out how to heal it. 

“For by grace, you have been saved through faith.  And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works” – Ephesians 2:8-9

Digging into the past was bad enough, but then we had a serious “Aha moment”. 

Hailey asked me what do other people like about you, what do others see as good qualities that you possess?

I started listing off various acts of kindness that I’ve done, nice things I’ve done for people.  She looked at me very quizzically, and said, “You really didn’t say anything about yourself or good qualities you have, all you did was list things you do for people.”

That one hit like a brick.  I never realized that I perceive my value purely by my acts, not who I am.  We delved briefly into the religious implications of this, but I noted to Hailey, I’m a firm believer that the only way to Heaven and to redemption is through Jesus Christ and Grace.  While works are important, they don’t get us there.  It’s not a religious thing, that’s not why I do works, it’s because that is the only way I can feel better about myself, it’s the only way I can like myself.  While dredging up my past was painful, this was an awful realization about myself.  I’m not sure anyone could imagine how devastated I was when this hit home.

I started thinking about how I’ve grown to feel the most uncomfortable in the two places I love the most, Shallowford Presbyterian Church and Ebb and Flow Yoga Studio.  I just don’t feel like I’m worthy.  I told Hailey how we close most yoga classes with the instructor saying, “The divine light in me honors the divine light in you.  And when we’re in this place together, we are one.  Namaste”, and how I just don’t feel like I’ve “earned” hearing that. 

Is this rock bottom?  Well, I surely hope so!  If I’ve thoroughly depressed you, please read on for my next post, “Sinking Deep – Into Light”  While Hailey has been amazing, well, there’s no one who can match God when you need some help.

If You Build It, He Will Come

Back in February this year, the United Methodist Church approved the Traditional Plan, which strengthened language barring LGBTQ United Methodists from ordination and marriage.  When I heard this, I was completely heartbroken.  Several years ago, my wife Laurel and I broke from the Methodist Church because of this issue, but I still remain as a Trustee at United Theological Seminary (UTS), which is technically non-denominational, but does have heavy ties to the Methodist Church, and has its roots in the Methodist Church.  I was heartbroken because of what this would mean for me, being on the Board of Trustees for a seminary that was largely Methodist, but I was also heartbroken for the decision surrounding this issue.

Several years ago, when we were members of a local Methodist Church, our son Patrick went through a difficult time, where he had suffered from sexual abuse.  Because of the experience, for a period of time, he thought or assumed he must be homosexual.  When Patrick approached Laurel and I about this issue, we immediately told him that just like God, we never started loving him, our love for him had no beginning nor end.  But I struggled with how our church would view him.  While we in a sense accept the LGBTQ community, it’s kind of a “don’t ask, don’t tell” type of approach.  I even had one of my friends from church say to me the one time, “I don’t mind if they worship here, but I don’t want them acting homosexual”.  I’m not sure how you can grow in Christian community if you can’t accept and embrace everyone for who they are and where they are in their life’s journey.

After the vote, I debated strongly whether to resign from the board at UTS in protest for the vote.  I strongly view this position against the will of God, I believe the love of God, the kingdom of God, is expansive, it has a great deal of room for so many of us, no matter our race, color, religion, sexual orientation, and I was really struggling with this decision.  One of the best experiences I had on this topic was when I had a chance to discuss it with J. Herbert Nelson, the Stated Clerk of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church.  He just started laughing.  He said, “I just don’t get it.  The church is for everyone.  I’ve never been able to understand this”.  And I don’t understand it, I’m consistently amazed that while we all sin regularly, consistently, daily, repeatedly, some of us hold the “sin” of being a part of the LGBTQ community as the one unforgivable sin, while many of us don’t view it as a sin at all. 

I will say, however, that I also get very frustrated with some of my brethren on the side of the LGBTQ viewpoint who characterize those on the Traditional side as being uncaring.  I have many dear friends from UTS or from my former church who are anything but uncaring, but they believe deeply in their hearts that this is God’s will, that the Bible is clear on this topic.  These are deeply loving and caring people, and I have a huge amount of respect for their commitment to what they believe is right.  While I may disagree with them, I don’t doubt their conviction or their sincerity, or their love.  

I didn’t resign, but I have to say, I became lukewarm, which for me, is even worse.  I went to my board meetings this past weekend, and on Thursday, I felt like a man without a country.  As we discussed or debated some of the possible solutions that may come forward at next year’s General Conference, I kept thinking, “I don’t have a dog in this fight”.  I’m not Methodist anymore, for this reason, this doesn’t impact me.  But quite frankly it does, and it does impact all of us. 

We have lost our ability as people to discuss, debate, and disagree, but do it in a way that we still respect and love those who we disagree with.  We’ve seen it over and over again across the globe, but particularly in our country.  There are those among the Methodist leadership, who are trying to change that.  They are working on a compromise solution, one that may not make everyone happy, but one that may lead to an amicable decision and separation.  How exciting would it be to see compromise, to see the love of God leading us to honoring each other, and coming to a solution that can be a win-win for everyone?  Maybe, just maybe, this can be a model going forward, maybe we can figure out ways to constructively, respectfully disagree with each other?  If we can’t do it as a church, how can we expect the country or the world to do it?

But, as noted, I struggled Thursday, I felt lost, out of sorts, I felt like I really didn’t belong, and I told Laurel that night, “I think I need to just resign, my heart’s not in it”.  Even worse, and for those who have been reading my blog posts about my depression, I was starting to think, maybe I’m not just losing my mind, maybe I’m also losing my soul.  I was really in a bad place after Thursday.

But then Friday came.  And just like so many of the meetings at UTS, Friday is a special day.  We lead off with Devotions on Friday, and it is a different person each time.   This time it was Dr. Rudy Rasmus.  I sat over on the side, all by myself, as noted, I felt like a man on my own little island, without a soul.  And then Rudy spoke.  I was completely mesmerized.  I couldn’t take my attention away from him, he had me in his spell.  It was simply an incredible message.

Then, the Reverend Marla Brown approached me, I had sent her my “depression trilogy” blogs, and she expressed her appreciation to me for sharing and gave me some kind words.  I’m sure there are some nicer, kinder people in the world than Marla Brown, but the number is probably in the range that you can count on your fingers. 

After that, after the one meeting, for whatever reason, Rudy approached me, and we had probably a half hour discussion about life, about a lot of things.  I had seen Rudy at our last board meeting, but we barely exchanged pleasantries, I have absolutely no idea why Rudy came up to talk to me after the meeting, but it was one of the most inspirational discussions I’ve had in a long, long time.  I was a new man.  And whether you are one to believe in things like this, I count this as a God moment.  Read below what Rudy has on his website, and tell me that this isn’t a man I can gain a lot from.

As I’ve noted, I’ve thought long and hard about resigning from the UTS board.  I’ve thought maybe I don’t belong, maybe I don’t really add any value.  But then I started thinking, maybe this isn’t about the Methodist Church, maybe this isn’t about United Theological Seminary, maybe this isn’t about the skills and knowledge that I can possibly add to what we do there.

Maybe this is about me.

If you know me, you know how uncomfortable that comment is.  But, I kept thinking over the last couple days, what the hell is going on?  I kept thinking in the back of my mind, this reminds me of something, but what?  And then it finally hit me, and yeah, I may be stretching, but it reminded me of one of my favorite movies, “Field of Dreams”.  I’ve been pounding my head trying to figure out why am I here, what can I do to help the Methodist Church, what am I doing to help the seminary, and maybe, just maybe, it’s not about what I can do for anyone else, but what they can and are doing for me.  Just maybe, God has put me here because I need to be here.

As I painfully struggle through my issues at the moment, seriously, what could possibly be a better place to be than at a place surrounding by Bishops, ministers, faculty and students who want to serve God.  I highlighted above the impact Rudy Rasmus and Marla Brown had on me this weekend but in prior weekends, it’s been Bob Coleman, Jeff Greenway, Marty Nicholas or Bishop Lowry or so many others.  I leave there refreshed, nourished and feeling closer to God each time.  And maybe, just maybe, that’s why I’m there, God put me there because I need to be there, nothing else. 

So I re-committed, I plan to serve out my term, I am on the board through May 2021.  I’m going to be there, I’ll do the best job I can possibly do, but I’ll also be there to see what message God has for me.  I truly believe God spoke very clearly to me this weekend.  I may have believed I was completely lost, that I had finally lost my soul, but based on everything that happened, I don’t think God has given up on me yet.  And I don’t think I should either.

Sinking Deep - Epiphanies

Editor’s Note: I committed to share my journey to hopefully help those who are on a similar journey with depression.  I have to admit, I’ve been hesitant to do this because the last thing I want is anyone to feel sorry for me.  I especially feel this way today after attending the Gala-4-Gold to benefit the Amanda Riley Foundation, which helps those children and families battling childhood cancer.  Twelve Riley Warriors lost their lives so far this year.  If you ever want to feel sorry for someone, do it for children like this or their families.  I just can’t imagine.  But, I’m committed to help at least one person with my blog posts.  After my last post, one person did reach out to me, and that made me feel good.  If I can help at least one person with my journey then I will feel like I’ve succeeded.  So the journey continues…

Oh, the irony.

For those who read my last blog post, “Sinking Deep(er)”, I noted that I had been begrudgingly convinced by Megan Kearney and Karl Sparklin that maybe it was time to seek counseling to deal with my latest plunges into depression.  As I noted, I’m really not a fan of counseling, I hadn’t had good experience with it.

Flash forward to last week, I’m in Brazil, and I see that after my upcoming counseling appointment with Hailey, I can’t get in again until September 20, almost a month later.  I quickly panic, and immediately schedule three appointments to get onto the schedule before the opportunity slips away. 

Yes, my attitude has changed.  I’ve been going to counseling for about seven weeks, and I’ve loved it.  Now, don’t get me wrong, it has definitely had its ebb and flow, and I’ve plunged deeply a few times after exploring some very difficult topics, but overall, this experience has been overwhelmingly successful.

I’ve also had a few epiphanies along the way about what I’m experiencing, and I’d like to share those.

The Hot Air Balloon Effect

Many years ago, Laurel and I took a hot air balloon ride in the countryside of France.  It was a magical experience, but not without its panic-filled moments for me.  As we took off, and as we landed, when I could see the trees, rivers, houses, churches, I was fine.  When we got way up in the air, I started to panic.  I tried to rationally tell myself, this is silly, if you were fine 100 feet off the ground, you should be fine 1,000 feet off the ground, either way, if you fell or something happened, you’d die, so you are having an irrational fear.  Yeah, that didn’t work.  My rational mind couldn’t convince my emotional mind to settle down.

I realized that this is the same thing I face when I have irrational fears now.  I’ve found that for whatever reason, I seem to have these more often when I travel long distances away, like to South America.  Now, it may be the long flights, the lack of sleep, sitting in a hotel room all by myself, but whatever it is, my emotional mind takes over, and I can’t get my rational mind to convince it that, well, it’s being irrational.

The latest was last week in Brazil, it started harmlessly enough, one of the dogs was sick, most likely Daisy, and I was texting back and forth with Laurel about it.  At one point, she said it was probably due to too many treats.  I took that as a shot at me, since I’m the one who gives them too many treats, so I sent a smart-ass comment back.  The next morning, I tried texting Laurel and then calling to no avail.  My emotional mind took over.  I started thinking, she’s mad at me.  Then I started thinking, Daisy died.  Then I started thinking, Laurel was kidnapped or died or ….. I resorted to what I try to avoid, but do out of desperation, I started texting the kids, “Have you talked to your Mom?”  I finally reached Laurel, and her reaction was as is usual, “Worrying won’t help the situation, it won’t do any good.”  Easy for her to say, incredibly hard for me to execute.

This has been a repetitive pattern for me, as noted, particularly when I travel far away.  Similar to the hot air balloon incident, I try to tell myself, if I were 50 miles away or 5,000 miles away, there’s not much I can do if something has gone horribly wrong.  Again, that hasn’t worked, my rational mind hasn’t been able to convince my emotional mind that it’s being irrational.

Hailey has been working with me on coping skills.  She suggests either lean into the irrational fears, embrace them and basically confront them, or distract yourself from them.  Since the fears I’m having are too life-changing and devastating, I haven’t confronted them, but I have been working on distracting myself, with at least limited success.  I’m still a work in progress.

The Heart of the Matter

It’s about forgiveness.  And yet, once again, I can’t seem to get my rational mind and emotional mind to work together on this one (by the way, Hailey says when I’m able to, that is the wise mind, but as usual, I digress).

One of my favorite moments this year at our Small Group Retreat was when Nike Nihiser said he still remembers what I said on his wedding day.  Nike had been divorced, he was marrying a wonderful person in Jane, and I told him how happy I was for him, but more so how good it felt to see him so happy.  And then I told him, everyone deserves a second chance in life.

Fast forward to some of my conversations with Hailey, and she’s asked me if I forgive others when they’ve done something wrong to me?  I tell her of course, we all make mistakes, we’re human.  She then asks, does that apply to me?  In the immortal words of Hamlet, “Ay, there’s the rub!”

To be honest, it’s not everything in life, and that’s where it gets a bit interesting.  In many areas of my life, I do believe I deserve forgiveness, but there are three areas where I really struggle, and yes, I need to work through.  One, is with my Dad.  My Dad was the greatest cheerleader a child could have, he was always positive and seeing the good in what I had done, but I just can’t, or won’t, see where I’ve treated him well.  Two, it’s my children, I can remember virtually every nasty or ill-tempered comment I’ve made to them throughout our lives together.  As my brother Jim would say, words are like bullets, once they’re out, you can’t get them back, and the damage is done.  Three, and most importantly, and most painful for me is how I treated Laurel.  As many know I left her for a brief period about 30 years ago, I was nasty to her, I was awful.  I’m struggling to accept what I did.

I’ll be honest, I’m not sure I can ever forgive myself, or as Hailey rightfully points out to me, “You can, it’s a matter of if you will”.  This will take time, but the reality is that I’ve carried this guilt and pain for 30 years, and I just don’t know if I will let it go.  I keep going back to something one of the greatest theologians I know, Catherine Foster, said to me a few years ago on this topic:

“Now, like me, you might feel that you only hold yourself to a higher standard. But I've discovered in myself that this is my desire to boot God from the seat of judgment and place myself there. God may forgive me, but I'm going to keep punishing myself for as long as I feel necessary.  I've learned that this is both pride/hubris and also terrible theology. The solution to sin is not punishment, but reconciliation. My task upon realizing my sin is not guilt but the even harder work of opening myself to repair the breach.”

Wow, spot on.  Now if I could just get my rational brain to convince my emotional brain of this….

What the Hell Happened?

I look back to some of my blog posts from 2017, and that was probably the best place I’ve ever been when it comes to spirituality, emotions and my mental state.  I probably had come the closest I’ve ever come to being able to accept myself for who I am.  As Hailey points out to me there is a distinction between viewing yourself as a good person who has done bad things or viewing yourself as a bad person.  Again, when I’m rational, I can see the difference, but unfortunately there are times, I can’t, OK won’t, see the distinction.  I’m not sure what has happened in those two short years to bring me to this place, but I need to figure out how to get back again to a better place.  I’m exhausting myself continually boomeranging between depression and anxiety, and I just can’t keep doing this.

Going full circle to my panic with not being able to schedule appointments for about a month and one of the reasons I like Hailey so much is that she said to me “You’ll be fine, you have great coping skills.  My job is to work my way out of a job, we need to get to the point where you don’t need to come see me anymore, and we’ll get there.”  I like her, I trust her, and I believe in her.  To me, that is critical to have a healthy working relationship with a counselor. 

And going full circle to my comments about not wanting people to feel sorry for me.  I don’t, I don’t deserve it, there are many people out there who do.  But I really do appreciate how so many people have been so supportive as I’ve shared my journey.  Whether it’s little comments, private messages, words of encouragement, they do mean so much.  Just knowing people care, that makes all the difference in the world.  I’m still not sure I will allow myself to forgive myself, to remove myself from the judgment seat, but I’m so thankful that there are so many of you who seem to be able to accept me for who I am.  

Sinking Deep(er)

“We’re sitting here with you,” said Pooh, “because we are your friends.  And true friends don’t care if someone is feeling Sad, or Alone, or Not Much Fun To Be Around At All.  True friends are there for you anyway.  And so here we are.”

Back in March, I wrote a blog post titled “Sinking Deep”.  As I noted, I have written various blog posts about depression, but this was the first time I truly looked in the mirror, and wrote about my experiences with depression.  As I noted, when “life happens”, I can sink pretty deep, and unfortunately, life has really happened in the last few months. 

•           My Mom’s twin brother, Uncle Bob died.  Uncle Bob was 90, he led an incredible life, so it can be hard to mourn in a sense, but Uncle Bob was a huge influence on my journey of faith.  It was hard to see him go, especially with how close my Mom is with her siblings.

•           Barbara Battin ended her 36-year journey with cancer.  Barbara was one of the most unique and amazing people I’ve ever met, and while I was happy to see her out of pain, it’s still hard to see someone go.  I could say so many great things about Barbara and what she meant to this world, but what will always stick with me is she always, consistently asked me how Patrick was doing.  She never failed.  

•           My nephew Michael succumbed to addiction and had an overdose.  Michael always had a special place in my heart because of his relationship with my Dad.  It was magical to see the two of them together. 

•           And there was more, but for personal reasons, I can’t share that, but I had other setbacks that had a huge impact.

Needless to say, I am sinking deep.  I am losing the battle right now, I’m struggling each day, and each day is a battle to overcome the waves.  I just can’t get over them, I have some good days, but for the most part, each day is a struggle, each day is a battle.  Now, having said that, before anyone gets too concerned, like my Mom, I’m not suicidal, I really don’t ever see that as a viable option, but it doesn’t mean that each day isn’t a challenge for me.

I had noted in my blog post, I have avoided counseling, I have avoided drugs, and I believed that I can deal with this more effectively on my own and I can help others to a greater extent if I truly experience the depths of my depression.  When I said that, I received some pushback from a good friend in Dayton, Karl Sparklin.  Well, maybe it was more of Karl calling bullshit on me, but he said, “I’m glad you draw strength and inspiration from various passive experiences like church sermons that you mention.  But as you know, depression is a deep and powerful illness, and you will have to combat it more directly and intensively than say, having Lent show up.”

I always receive and listen to advice and constructive criticism with a discerning ear, I know I can always improve.  But, I quickly dismissed what Karl had to say, he doesn’t know me like I know me.  And then Karl got to experience what Laurel always painfully experiences – The Megan Kearney Effect.  In simple terms The Megan Kearney Effect is like this – Laurel says “the sky is blue”.  I disagree.  Megan Kearney tells me, “the sky is blue”.  I go home and tell Laurel, “the sky is blue, Megan Kearney told me it was”. 

After I had posted my blog, I was at Ebb & Flow, and Megan approached me.  She had read my blog, and she said to me, “You know, when you don’t think you need counseling or you don’t need drugs, it could be your brain is lying to you and telling you that everything is fine.” 

What?  I know, I know, I know.  Megan has told me many times, my brain lies to me, my brain tells me stories, gives me an alternate reality, leads me down a path, but I never considered that when I believed I didn’t need counseling, didn’t need drugs, everything was OK, and I could get through this on my own, my brain may be lying to me.  It was such a lightbulb moment, and I felt so stupid.  And of course, Megan told me the same thing Karl did, but in a much more palatable way.  Or something like that.

So I got inspiration from Megan, and OK I’ll begrudgingly give Karl credit too, to finally seek out counseling.  I haven’t gone to counseling for years, and out of the handfuls of counselors I’ve gone to, I can count on one finger a good one that I saw.  But, I’m committed to give this a shot, and I will keep on searching until I do find a good one.  I’m not committed to drugs, I have not taken any type of medicine for anything for I don’t know how many years, and I really don’t plan to start.  I think, or I hope, I can do this if I can find a good counselor.

And I got inspiration from Barbara Battin, and also from her husband Jim Clay.  Jim had noted that Barbara never viewed her 36 years with cancer as a battle, she viewed it as a part of her journey.  Now, I’ve lost a great deal of family and friends to cancer, so I would never equate depression to cancer, but I thought to myself, maybe I need to have a different view on this.  Maybe I need to start looking at this as my journey with depression rather than a battle with depression. 

You know, I really get it, I really understand why so many of you don’t understand.  I have the most incredible life possible, I have no right, no business to be depressed.  But then again, when Jaromir Jagr once said, “I feel like I’m dying alive” when he was one of the greatest hockey players in the world, he probably had no right to feel depressed.  But he did, and I do too.  Recently I had that conversation with my Mom, and I understand her concern, her wanting to understand, but there is no understanding, it is.  I’ve gone through that same frustration with Patrick, trying to understand why in the Hell he is depressed, but he is. 

I’ve decided, right or wrong, good or bad, I’m going to share my journey.  I’m hopeful that maybe it can be helpful to at least someone.  As I always note with my blog posts, if one person can get something out of it, I’ll feel I’ve been successful.  I’m moving from fighting a battle to setting out on a journey, and I am inviting you all along with me.  Let’s see if we can learn some things together.  

How Long Must We Sing This Song?

I can't believe the news today

Oh, I can't close my eyes

And make it go away

How long?

How long must we sing this song?

How long, how long?

When I got the call from my brother Jim about 10 o’clock on Thursday night, lying in my hotel room, that line just kept running through my head.  How long must we sing this song? My nephew Michael had passed, he overdosed on drugs, and really, in regard to that part of it, that’s all I know, and to be honest, I really don’t want or need to know anymore.  I woke up many times that night, kept thinking, did this really happen, and then would realize, yes, it had.  I couldn’t make it go away, no matter how hard I tried.

Whether it’s depression, suicide, alcohol, drugs, addiction, an overdose, my due apologies to Shakespeare for butchering his beautiful line, but “a rose by any other name would smell as putrid”.  I know I have no facts, no statistics, purely anecdotal, but I just feel like we are losing way too many young people, and as I note, I really don’t care which one it is or was, it’s devastating to lose any one of them.  I’ve just grown too weary of seemingly fighting a losing battle.  But those of you who know me, you do know, I won’t ever give up this fight. 

While I know a lot about depression, and far more than I’d like about suicide, I know absolutely nothing about addiction or the potential result, an overdose.  I’m pretty passionate about depression and suicide, and I found I met my match in my niece Molly when it comes to addiction.  As we talked, what struck me was one of my favorite lines that I’ve learned from our yoga instructor, Megan Kearney:  “Your brain is lying to you”.  I’ve found so many times through my life through depression that my brain lies to me, and it tells me that I don’t need help, I don’t need counseling, whatever.  It would appear from talking to Molly that those who suffer from addiction face a similar battle against a lying brain.

While there are many who would love to help those of us with depression or addiction issues, sadly, it’s not an easy road to help those in need.  It has to come from within them for a change to happen.  Jim had said to me that he feels like he failed, he should have done more.  I feel the same way, Laurel and I had thought about buying Michael a yoga book that dealt with addiction, I had thought about reaching out to Michael, and I didn’t.  So I also carry a certain level of guilt.  But, as I said, it comes from within the person, and until they see a change is needed, it just won’t happen.  I’ve often quoted the following from “A River Runs Through It”.  It is from a sermon from Reverend Maclean after the death of his son, and unfortunately, there is too much truth to it.

“Each one of us here today will, at one time in our lives, look upon a loved one and with need, ask the same question: ‘We are willing to help, God, but what, if anything, is needed?’  For it’s true we can seldom help those closest to us.  Either we don’t know what part of ourselves to give, or more often than not, the part we have to give is not wanted.  And so it is those whom we live with and should know who elude us, but we can still love them.  We can love completely without complete understanding.”

So again, I ain’t giving up, but this time, I’m going to take a completely different approach to see if I can gain some traction.  And as people who know me know, my goal with a blog post is to reach one person.  If one person reads this, and they get something out of it, I consider it a success.  I’ll call it the “It’s a Wonderful Life” approach, and again, my apologies to Shakespeare, who I keep butchering, “I come to praise Michael, not to bury him”.  I remember:

• I remember when Michael was a baby, when he was a toddler.  He had a big, round head, but

even bigger brown eyes.  His eyes were so expressive, he was mischievous and laughed a lot.  One of my favorite stories was the time he was walking in the yard at my parents’ house, and he looked down, pointed and said, “Poop!  Right there!  Pappap, you clean it up!”  I’m not quite sure Pappap saw quite the humor we all saw, but we laughed and laughed.  Michael also always seemed to be at the center of everything.  The picture at the right is from one of our family reunions.  Michael is the

one in the red shirt and sunglasses being held by my Uncle Bob.  Each year, we would do family pictures for each of my Mom’s sisters and brother’s immediate families.  Michael appeared in every single family picture that year, wearing those sunglasses.

• Right after I got married to Laurel, Jim and I were taking a CPA review course, and we would be gone all day on Saturdays.  Michael and his sister Emily, who was one year older, would spend the day at my parents’ house with Laurel.  One thing about Michael, he really didn’t like to nap.  So when Jim and I would get home that early evening, Michael was pretty tired and grumpy.  I remember him standing up against the couch, and he’d be dead asleep.  You’d try to get him to lie down, but that would just make him mad.  Some other “moments” from those Saturdays that I loved:

• Laurel once got the wisdom of Solomon when Michael and Emily were fighting over an empty paper towel roll holder.  Just as she was cutting the cardboard in two, Michael screamed out, “Don’t cut it!”  Too late.  Michael was not a happy boy at that point.
• Dinnertime used to be a pleasure, as noted, Michael hadn’t napped, and he would just mumble and sit there dozing off.  He always wanted to sit by Pappap, even then Pappap was his favorite, and I remember Pappap asking him if he wanted ketchup on his hamburger.  Michael mumbled a bit, and I guess Pappap thought he wanted ketchup, and just as he squirted it on the burger, Michael started screaming.  Emily then interjected, “Pappap, Michael doesn’t like ketchup on his hamburger!”  It seems Pappap was the butt of a lot of these stories. 

• After we moved away, Laurel and I would visit periodically, over holidays or the summer.  Michael was extremely competitive, and I remember he’d want me to hit him fly balls, and he would practice catching them.  Sadly, I wasn’t always the best at hitting fly balls, and Michael would get so angry at me.  But that never matched the wrath I received when we’d play foosball.  It would typically be Jim and Emily against Michael and me.  I definitely wasn’t the best foosball player, and Michael let me know it when I screwed up.  If you could have seen the intensity when Jim or Emily scored, or Heaven forbid, beat us. 

• As years went by, the visits became less frequent.  When I was able to see Michael in the later years, as a teen or as a young adult, what amazed me was his relationship with my Dad.  I always struggled in my relationship with my Dad, but that was more about me rather than him.  Especially in the later years, it had a lot to do with patience, which I didn’t have enough of, but Michael, he had so much patience with my Dad.  If you could have seen them together, they would be talking to each other, and it wasn’t like there was anyone else in the room.  When Michael had troubles along the way, my Dad always defended Michael, he was always a huge fan.  And Michael always spent time, listening to my Dad, talking to him, being so much kinder and gentler to him than I ever was.  I envied him for their relationship, but I was so happy for the relationship they had.  More than

anything else, that was the biggest reason Michael always had a special place in my heart.

• In the last couple of years, what was amazing was seeing Michael with his children, Daphne and Elliot.  Remember those brown eyes I talked about when he was a baby and toddler?  If you could see those brown eyes light up around his children, it was magical.  They gave him such joy, and that joy showed so vividly when you saw Michael.  He was so patient and loving to Daphne and Elliot, I wish I could have been near the father he was.

Five snippets, five snapshots from a life too brief.  Michael really touched my life, he left me with many memories, but also with a very big hole for the memories that I won’t get to experience since he’s gone.  And the five memories I gave you pale in comparison to the 500 or 5,000 that his immediate family could share with you. 

As each of us ponders our life, who have we touched?  Who have we made a difference for in their lives?  I believe that if you think about it, you could come up with a great number of people who you have had an impact on, and who would really miss you if you were gone. When you make choices in your life, whether it’s suicide, addiction, drug or alcohol abuse, you are impacting more people than you could probably imagine.  Doesn’t that make it a life worth living? 

I would encourage you to take the “It’s a Wonderful Life” view and challenge yourself, what would the lives around me be like, if I would have never been born, or if I went away today.  I can unequivocally guarantee you, you will see that your life is worth more than you ever imagined.  And if you do see this, I will tell you in this case, your brain is not lying to you.

Planking Alone

I’ve never been one to do New Year’s resolutions, I just don’t see the point of them.  In most cases, New Year’s resolutions peter out once the initial drive dissipates.  But, I decided to try some changes early this year, and just like most things with me, I didn’t do it half ass, I did multiple changes.  And of course, I made Laurel join in the fun because, well, I wanted her to join in my fun.  I decided to try 30 days of each, and as noted, did them all together.  Thirty days with no internet, other than for work and banking.  Thirty days of no meat, except for fish.  And a thirty day plank challenge, which I found on the internet, before I started my 30 days of no internet, of course.  I had very mixed results, and the following summarizes how this experience went for me.  And Laurel.

No Meat

Bleah.  This one was no fun at all.  I have been wrestling with becoming a vegetarian for a while, and I also considered modifying it to allow fish in my diet.  This was my attempt at seeing if I could make this move.  I’ll preface this by saying, maybe if we were a bit more adventurous or imaginative, it may have been more successful, but as it was, it failed miserably.

I guess if we would have started from a point of being massive carnivores, this would have been a significant change.  But Laurel and I eat a pretty healthy diet, and really don’t eat a lot of meat, and if we do, it’s mostly chicken.  We eat some pork, we eat some burgers, but we’re not crazy meat eaters, we rarely ever eat steak. 

But eating fish every day can really get boring.  Maybe if we had a really good fish market nearby, it would be different, but our Publix only has so many options, and we got sick of the same 3 or 4 types of fish very quickly.  And as noted, we weren’t real imaginative, maybe if we would have found interesting or exciting fish recipes, it would have gone better, but we didn’t. 

I found it hard to believe, but I almost caved toward the end of the 30 days, I couldn’t take it anymore.  But, we made it, we went 30 days with no meat.  We quickly moved back to meat day 31, I couldn’t wait to get a good burger again.  The funny thing is that we are now mostly looking at fish when we go to the grocery store, but there’s some sort of freedom of not having to buy fish, it’s a choice now, not a requirement.

No Internet

I didn’t make Laurel join me on this one, I did this one alone.  A little background.  I just got sick of all of the negativity in the news on the internet and on social media.  What drove me over the top was an unlikely place.  Sports.  As many know, I’m a huge fan of Pittsburgh sports, so I follow a couple local Pittsburgh sports sites to get my daily dose of Pirates, Penguins, and to a lesser extent, Steelers.  It’s gotten to the point in all walks of life that we can’t seem to ever focus on the positives, we dwell on the negatives.  With sports, there doesn’t seem to be any difference.  I started noticing that even when the Pirates or Penguins won, a great deal of the story, and most of the comments, still found fault in something from the game.  We’ve grown to the point where winning just isn’t enough.  We want our teams to play to perfection, otherwise, we’re just not happy. 

I gave up the internet, as noted, I still had to stay on e-mail at work, and I had to continue to pay the bills, but no more MSN, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, DK on Sports, Facebook, Bloomberg, or any of the rest.  This one was so easy, and you know what?  I was so much happier, and I actually went a few extra days afterward, I enjoyed it so much.  I had stripped so much negativity out of my life.

I’ll have to admit, it was a bit disconcerting.  Having no idea what was going on in the world was scary.  I kept wondering if a war started or if a financial crisis occurred, would I know?  I figured, if it were big enough, someone would tell me.  I did have a few moments that made me realize, I had to get connected again. 

One of the situations was a funny one.  My staff came in for a morning meeting, and Nancy Cox-Lupori said to me, “What’s this merger for BB&T going to mean for us?”  I started laughing and said, “Nancy, you forget.  I’m off the internet, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  She quickly told me about BB&T’s merger with SunTrust, and I was up to speed again.

The other one really bothered me.  A dear friend from our days in Dayton and mine at Barco, Kathi Keeler, lost her mother, and since I was disconnected, I didn’t find out for a week or so after she died.  I took that one badly as I would have liked to have been able to reach out to her sooner than that to express my condolences.  That one made me think that it’s not so good to be disconnected from the world.

What this also taught me was that I’m the one who controls all of this.  People can write all sorts of negative things, but one, I don’t have to read them, and two, I can decide how it impacts me.  I don’t have to get angry or upset over what someone says, I’m the one who is making that choice.  And as noted, I don’t have to read it.  Since I’ve been back on the internet, I think I’m making more constructive and healthy choices. 

30 Day Plank Challenge

As noted, I found this plank challenge on the internet, and it had a gradual progression of increasing the number of planks you did and the time you spent doing them each day.  It also called for doing different variations, straight-armed planks, forearm planks, hip dips, back and forth and up and down.  Some of these, particularly up and down, were not so easy.  Also as noted, I made Laurel do this one with me. 

While I run, and I do yoga, I’ve not been happy with my core, and I’m a firm believer that your core is critical to maintaining good physical health.  I used to do a lot more core work, but I’ve slacked off over the years, leading me to this challenge.  Plus, Danielle Mason at work has started calling me Steve McFatty and tells me I can’t have any more candy.  OK, she’s joking, but I still wasn’t happy with my core.

While we weren’t completely “religious” on this, it was supposed to be 30 days, and I think it took us 32 days or so to complete it, we did it to the end.  I will have to say also, it wasn’t easy.  Part of it had to do with my travel schedule.  I would call Laurel from my hotel room, and we would be planking together over the phone, timing our planks, helping each other through.  At the end, we were doing four one-minute planks to finish off the 30 days.

This was the one change I/we made that I really enjoyed, if you can call it enjoyment.  It was great to see or feel the progression and improvement that we made over the 30 days.  It was also nice to be doing this together and supporting each other with our planking challenge.  So we continued on our plank challenge for the next few months. 

As time has gone on, Laurel’s desire to plank has continued to dwindle.  To be fair to her, Laurel teaches yoga and takes yoga classes, and between the 10-15 classes she either takes or teaches each week, she does plenty of planking.  Between the 2-4 classes I take each week, I don’t do plenty of planking.

So I plank alone.  Once in a while, Laurel does join me, which is really helpful, because planking alone isn’t the most fun thing to do, but for the most part, I plank alone.  It’s been about four months now, and while I’m still not religious about it, I do a fair amount of planking each week.  Would you notice a difference in how I look?  Based on Danielle still calling me Steve McFatty, I don’t think so.  What’s more important though is I feel so much better.  My core feels stronger, and I firmly believe your core is critical to the rest of your body feeling better.

While I tend to be my harshest critic, I would say that my changes this year (please don’t call them New Year’s resolutions) were a huge success.  In summary:

•       We determined that we are not ready to become vegetarians.  I wish the experiment would have turned out differently, but we learned from it.  We like variety, we do eat fairly healthy other than all the sweets we unfortunately eat, but we do pretty well.  I’m happy with this one at the moment.
•       While I really loved the time away from the internet, I also realized how unrealistic that is.  I need to control what I read, and I need to control how I react to what I read.  As I say this, I realize how basic and simple this is, and I’m somewhat embarrassed to say it, but it’s true. 
•       I have come to “enjoy” planking, even if I have to plank alone.  Yes, I wish Laurel would plank with me, and I still really try to get her to join the fun, but I do understand, and I can accept this.  As I sit here tonight in my hotel room, should I call Laurel, see if she wants to plank with me over the phone?  No, I think I’ll plank alone.

Sinking Deep

Editor’s Note: I wrote a different version of this a few months ago, but I couldn’t publish it.  A few have read that version, so some of it may be familiar.  

“I don’t remember it being like this before”.

You know, on a certain level, she was right, Laurel is always right.

We were discussing one of my recent plunges downward, my dive into depression.  There are many things that can set it off.  Some of the recent ones included:

• Our family gathering for my Mom’s 90th birthday celebration.  As is usual, I looked forward to it so much, I enjoyed it so much, that afterward, I crashed.  Unfortunately, this is somewhat normal for me.

• Bennett White at WIKA lost his Mom, as did Kathi Keeler, a dear friend from Ohio, as did Megan Kearney at Ebb & Flow, back to back to back.  When I spoke to Bennett he talked about giving his Mom’s eulogy, and it rewoke in me memories of my Dad dying and all of the circumstances surrounding that.  Forgiveness, mainly self-forgiveness, is not an easy path for me.

• The United Methodist Church voting for The Traditional Plan which continues the denomination’s ban on ordination and marriage of the LGBTQ community.  This one hurt on many levels, but it leaves me with the difficult decision of whether to resign from the Board of Trustees of United Theological Seminary, a place, and people, that I love.

While I know that many of us can get sad under these circumstances, I can go pretty deep when life happens.  And as Laurel noted, it’s not been quite the same lately.  My dives downward had become more frequent and deeper.

After this interaction, I decided to write a blog post about my (limited) understanding of depression.  As I’ve noted before, I’ve lost three relatives to suicide, or depression, including my brother Billy, and my son Patrick battles it.  I’ve been able to write profusely about depression and its impact, using my brother Billy and Patrick as my main characters, but I’ve hidden behind the page, not admitting that so much of this applies to me too.  I didn’t want to admit it, I didn’t want to expose myself for who I am.

I was going to write about the frustration of going through depression, about the frustration of people asking you, “do you feel better now”?  No, I don’t feel better.  As I’ve noted, depression is terminal, it’s not something where you eventually get better, you may be able to manage it or deal with it through counseling or drugs, but you don’t “get better”.

I was going to write that I’ve chosen my own path, my own treatment, which is by no means the right answer for everyone.  Years ago, I took medication to even out the high’s and low’s, but I decided I didn’t want that anymore.  I’ve decided that for me to be the “best me”, I need to experience the “worst me”.  Through the pain of sinking deep I can develop a greater understanding of what others experience and I can really learn a great deal more about myself and grow as a person.

I was going to write that really this may not be the best approach for everyone, I’ve never really seriously considered suicide, so on a certain level, my depression isn’t as awful as some experience and it’s not life threatening.  For those who are at a deeper level, I’d suggest something more, most importantly, getting good counseling.  That is to me the key to getting through depression. But, good counseling is not so easy to come by.  I’ve been through many bad ones, and good ones are really hard to find.

I was going to write that I haven’t chosen the counseling path, with no good excuse, other than the fact that I am “religious” about listening to good sermons at church and really embracing them and studying them.  I’ve also been blessed by some incredible clergy at Shallowford Presbyterian Church, who in each of their own way, can bring compassion and meaningful dialogue to every situation.  Also, I listen intently at yoga to one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, Megan Kearney, who has taught me that “my brain is lying to me” and I need to sometimes tell my brain, “Wait.  Stop.  I’m not going there”, when my brain wants to take me down a painful path.  But, yes, I’m still very much a work in progress.

I was going to say all of that in my blog post to share what I’m going through to hopefully help those who are going through similar struggles because I firmly believe that we are all in this together, and we need to share the pain to help us all heal together.  But then, life happened again, but that’s another story, and that’s not my story….

Thankfully, something else happened, and that was Lent.  As simple as this may sound, it’s hard to believe what an impact Lent can have on all of us, and in this case, the impact it had on me.  As a part of our Lenten study in our adult education class, we started reading Adam Hamilton’s, “Simon Peter”.  So much of the story discusses those times when the waves are overwhelming, when you are “walking with Jesus in the storms”.  While the stories and the visions of waves and storms were inspirational, it also pointed me back to a great sermon from two years ago from Catherine Foster, “Get Back in the Boat”.  The pinnacle of the sermon told us while Peter walked on water, maybe we should be following a different path:

“When the setbacks and storms of life come, and they will, don’t try to get out of the boat and walk on water.  Stay in the boat, work with the brothers and sisters that God has placed at your side, look for God in the storm, and worship the Lord for His provision and grace.”

Lent happened, and I was able to remember and focus on what can get me through the waves and what can bring me back from the depths.  And you know, while those big things in life can send me deep, it’s often the really little things in life that can bring me back up again.  It’s been the little things that have raised me up, have brought me above the waves, and have kept me above the waves lately.  I sometimes marvel at how the simplest gestures in life, those moments that just take a few minutes or seconds, can mean so much, but they do.

Recently Laurel has been doing a “Five Things Friday”, those things that she has been thankful for.  I’ve loved reading those, she really put a lot of work into it, and they were so meaningful to read.  I’m not nearly as introspective as Laurel, but if I could just give a few of those little things that raised me up and helped me through the storms and the waves I’ve experienced the last few months, they would be:

• Holly Hahn texting me after yoga the one day and asking, “Are you OK?  You seemed sad today.”  Sometimes you don’t realize that people are paying attention and notice, and it’s comforting to know that.

• Bob Smithers sending me a note of thanks for a Clinging Cross I had sent him and how meaningful it was to him.

• Jeff Wood being the really proud Dad and showing me a video of his daughter hitting a game-winning home run in a college softball game.

• Sister Marita Beumer telling me how much my Journey of Faith meant to her when I gave it at United Theological Seminary, because it hit so close to home for her.

• Being a student in one of Laurel’s yoga classes.  While Laurel can often be self-deprecating, she is really good at teaching yoga, she is such a compassionate and caring person, and she exudes that when she is teaching.

OK, it’s clear from what I said before, the waves will keep coming, and I’ll be heading downward once life happens again.  But, I’m not as ill-prepared as I have been in the past.  While the waves seem to be pushing me deeper, I’m developing more and more the coping skills and the people around me that can help me through the storms.  As long as I use them of course.

"We're sitting here with you," said Pooh, "because we are your friends. And true friends don't care if someone is feeling Sad, or Alone, or Not Much Fun To Be Around At All. True friends are there for you anyway. And so here we are."

A few months ago, after a difficult time, our daughter Kelly reached out to see if I wanted to spend some time together.  I told Kelly that I wouldn’t really be that much fun, I was pretty down.  Kelly replied back, “isn’t that when people are supposed to show up?”  Wow, she was right.

It was funny, the next morning, I saw a post on Facebook, it was Winnie the Pooh, Piglet and Eyeore.  As many know, I’m a huge Winnie the Pooh fan.  The post is about Eyeore being sad, and thinking he shouldn’t be around others, and the quote above is Winnie’s response.  So yes, we had Kelly over, I probably wasn’t a whole lot of fun, but it was so nice to have her company.  And Franklin and Rosie of course.

My final message to all of you.  There are many broken people out there.  Some are in your family, in your church, in your neighborhood, in your company.  Find them, reach out to them, even if they are feeling sad, or alone, or not much fun to be around, spend some time with them.  They will appreciate it, and so will you.

But my charge is to those of you, like me, who believe when you are in a deep dive, it is best to avoid people and be by yourself.  Don’t.  True friends are there for you anyway.  Let them in, let them just be there for you while you are sorting through whatever you are sorting through.  I know how hard it is to reach out to people and ask for prayers for whatever you are going through.  There are so many people out there who would love to be there, just to support you, just to pray for you.  It can make all the difference.  Let them in.

Riley Run 2019 Recruitment Video

Mary's Gone Old School On Us!

“Steve!  How are you?  I’ll be with you in just a minute!”

That was where I learned the beauty of great customer service. 

Many years ago, when we lived in Dayton, I would go to My Favorite Muffin in Centerville on Friday mornings as a treat to myself at the end of the week.  I’d get a latte, a muffin, and that was how I’d end the week.

The one day when I went in there, this woman yelled to me when I went through the door, “How are you!  We’ll be with you in a minute!”  Now, for those who don’t know me, I’m an introvert, and I’m really not much for a lot of social interaction.  I was a bit taken aback.  She then proceeded to engage in chit-chat, asking my name, asking how my day was, just being way too friendly for early on a Friday morning.

I went back the next week, and instead of a non-descript greeting, it was personalized, she shouted out my name.  Again, I was a bit uncomfortable, she was pushing me out of my comfort zone. 

But, you know what?  I started noticing something.  Each time I’d go into My Favorite Muffin, I would be transformed.  I’d get that greeting when I’d walk in the door, she’d interact with me and ask about me, my family, she’d ask about Laurel (yes, she even found out my wife’s name), and I found myself transformed by her effusive personality.  I noticed that as I was pushing the door open to leave, I had this huge smile on my face. 

The funny thing was, it changed my behavior.  Instead of just a Friday treat thing, My Favorite Muffin became a 2-3 times a week thing.  I loved the greeting, I loved the interaction, I loved hearing my name shouted out, “Steve, how are you!  We’ll be with you in a minute!”

That is where I learned, customer service really isn’t that hard.  We all want to feel special, and the first part of that, is our name.  Our name is special to us, we love to hear our name, and anytime a customer service representative uses our name, we feel special.  That is clearly the first part of it.  Learning a little bit about that person and acknowledging them as a person and not just a sale is also important.

Let me take it a step further.  There are various companies that like to collect your birthday in their records.  Many will give you a free something when your birthday comes, which is nice.  But what about those companies or stores that make sure they say something to you when you come in on or around your birthday?  Anytime that happens to me, I know I’m impressed with the personalized attention I get from that company.

As I’ve traveled a lot, I’ve built up a bazillion miles, points, etc.  What annoys me is when something goes wrong at an airline or hotel, and the simple or quick solution is to give me miles or points to appease me.  That is the last thing I want in these situations.  Rather than a quick e-mail and points, I’d much prefer a simple acknowledgement of the mistake, and a commitment to do better in the future.

While we all can come up with reasons or ways to bash various companies, I’ve found that Delta does an amazing job of dealing with issues like this.  If you travel 50% of the year, there is no doubt, something does and will go wrong.  I had one instance last year, where Delta really screwed up, and again, I travel a lot, and almost exclusively with Delta, so it was bound to happen.  I complained, and a Customer Service Manager responded with a sincere apology and an acknowledgement that, yes, they did screw up and they were sorry.  To be honest, that’s all that I would ever ask of anyone.  I don’t want points, I don’t want anything other than, yes, we made a mistake, we are sorry, and we will do our best to do better in the future.

Recently, my wife Laurel and I were in our Starbucks.  Mary came out and greeted me, she greeted Laurel, she knew my drink, and she knew what drink Laurel normally gets.  After she took our order, Laurel said, “Mary’s gone old school on us.”  Laurel was right, Mary is definitely old school, and that’s a good thing.

I hate to admit it, but I spend way too much time in Starbucks, that is a huge monkey on my back.  Years ago, Starbucks was big on knowing the customer, knowing their name, knowing their typical order.  Something changed along the way, and that all went away.

The Starbucks that I typically frequent has gone through many changes over the last 5-10 years, which is normal in this line of business.  But the store manager, Brian Federico, has done an amazing job of training his group of people.  They are really good, probably the best crew that has been there since I’ve been going to this store.  They are just so good at customer service, they know my name, they know Laurel’s name, they know my drink, they make me feel special every time I go in there.  That is great customer service, which comes from great leadership, it’s like I’m back at My Favorite Muffin in Centerville, Ohio.  And it has transformed me, it used to be I’d go to two or three local Starbucks, but now I go to this Starbucks almost exclusively because of how I’m treated.

As I often like to do, I have to at least share a learning moment that I experienced, where I failed, and in this case, it reflects that customer service, or kindness, can go both ways. 

I went into my Starbucks the one day, and there was a guy ahead of me in line that was texting, and calling and doing all sorts of things to determine an order for whomever was on the other end of the line.  I’m very much a Type A, I struggle with people who delay my progress.  His lack of clarity and purpose was disrupting that, and I was getting really tense wanting to move forward.  I looked to my left, and it was Max making the coffee.  That really set me over the top, Max was new, Max was slow, I was never going to get out of here.  I finally got to place my order, and I tried to calm myself for the long wait until Max finally made my coffee.  As I turned to my left, Max was standing there holding a drink, and said, “Here you go Steve, Grande Nonfat Latte, right?”.  I was amazed.  Max had grown up overnight, and had become a champion at customer service.  Since then I’ve discovered, Max is incredible, he really does a great job, and unfortunately, I didn’t have the patience to allow him to learn and develop as we all need to do.  Yeah, no doubt, I’ve beaten myself up many times over my lack of compassion for those trying to learn a new job, and this was a major learning moment for me.

I know, I know, I know, I’ve way oversimplified this.  Jerry Collier, our Vice President of Sales Operations at WIKA, would probably be telling me, “Steve, you don’t know jackshit about good customer service”.  And Jerry’s probably right because Jerry does know great customer service.  But I do know how I like to be treated.  And I do know, for the most part, when I treat people well and when I don’t.  I just don’t think good customer service is that hard because at the root, at the core, is simple kindness and compassion and getting to know your customer.  Treat people how you would like to be treated, and I think you’ll capture 98% of it.  And as I learned, it goes both ways.