Please pray for me

I am taking a break from my plan of getting my kids up to speed on how we got to our current "place in time" to write about a powerful, yet awkward experience I had at church today.  There have been times in my life where I felt compelled to go forward after the sermon to ask for prayers, but today I really should have - I just didn't have the courage.

For a while now, our preacher has been delivering great lessons on the need for us to step out and move forward in order to do things we have never done before, including coming up with ways to grow the church and be a dynamic force in our community.  During the lesson this morning, the words to the song, Voice of Truth, kept playing over and over in my head.  This song is centered on the internal struggle to finally do what you know you are supposed to do, and the regret for not doing that deed.  The song is obviously playing on this page, but if you have never heard it, the first verse and chorus go like this:

Oh, what I would do to have
the kind of faith it takes 
To climb out of this boat I'm in 
Onto the crashing waves
To step out of my comfort zone
Into the realm of the unknown 
Where Jesus is, 
And he's holding out his hand

But the waves are calling out my name 
and they laugh at me
Reminding me of all the times 
I've tried before and failed
The waves they keep on telling me 
time and time again
"Boy, you'll never win, 
You you'll never win

But the Voice of truth tells me a different story
the Voice of truth says "do not be afraid!"
and the Voice of truth says "this is for My glory"
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe the Voice of truth

What always strikes me when I hear that first verse is this:  There were several great men in that boat that night, yet only one had the courage and faith to actually get out of that boat.  I picture the others watching in fear and envy as Peter swung that first leg over the edge.  I also am pretty certain that for the rest of their lives that night bothered them for the fact that they themselves did not have the faith to run to Jesus in the face of the storms and uncertainty.

Why do we struggle to do what we know we need to do and are called to do?  I got to a point today where it was just weighing on me too much and I had to discuss it at our small group tonight.  I had to relay the frustration, with emotion, that I have with myself for still not doing what I know I need to do or for doing what I know I shouldn't do.  What am I waiting for - someone else to do it?  It is time to stop just going through the motions and treading water.  It is time to step up and make something happen.  If I don't, I will realize one day that I let it all pass with no time to make up for it.  It comes down to a simple question of "Do you really believe?"  If the answer is yes (and believe me, it is!), then act on it - don't just sit around playing church.  It is time to BE the church.   Jesus is there, waiting - still waiting.

When I think of this issue, I always look back to when we made the big decision to leave our family in Oklahoma to move out to Tennessee in 2006.  For the first year, it was extremely tough being out here by ourselves.  We questioned our decision multiple times and came close to throwing it all away to move back home.  Even though we talked about that, I worried that if we made that move it would ultimately hurt our marriage in the long run by having some level of resentment for tossing aside a great job, etc. because we could not cope with the move.

After we had been here a year, we began going to Kingwood Church of Christ in Murfreesboro.  This church reminded us of the church home we had back in Broken Arrow (lots of young families and room for growth).  Everyone we met was very genuine and welcoming.  We began, rather quickly, to feel at home at this congregation and it was at that point that our experience in Tennessee began to make a turn for the better.  I still credit the church for possibly saving our family with this situation.  Let me say that again - I believe the Kingwood church saved our family.  The funny thing is, they didn't even know they were doing it.  They were just being themselves.  Imagine what we could do as a church if we actually knew what we wanted to do.  If we put it in our minds to get off the pews and make a difference we could be exactly what God is waiting for us to be.  There are people out there waiting for us to be just that.

Listen to the message of that song - It is time to have that faith it takes to get out of the boat.  No more internal battles of knowing what should be done but waiting around on someone else to take charge.  I don't want to regret not having the strength to stand.  It is too important to this short time on Earth God has blessed me with and for my children to learn from.  I am ready to stand now.  If you are reading this, please pray for me to follow through and finally take those steps that God is waiting for me to take.  I need this to become the man that God, Emily, and my children need me to be.

I am a Boy. I like to run. My name is Brady.

Brady drew this on his “Doodle Pad” a little while back and it made me smile.  It took me back to February 10, 2005; the day we had been praying about for years.  We had gone in for Emily’s 37 week check-up the day before, only to be told that we would be checking into the hospital that night due to a high blood-pressure reading.  Evidently, we were setting an appointment to have a baby – now that is the way we do things around here J

A little background on Emily’s doctor…  Emily had been seeing a doctor that she really liked but due to a change with our insurance we had to seek out a replacement.  I wish we would have looked a little harder.  The new doctor was extremely tough on Emily during the pregnancy when Emily would gain more weight than the doctor thought was allowable.  Later, when Emily was pregnant with Alex, it was discovered that she had Gestational Diabetes and had to adhere to a strict diet.  I contend that this doctor missed the diagnosis on Emily for this first pregnancy but I guess that is beside the point. 

The doctor simply had no compassion for the patient and we would find out later had absolutely no bedside manner either.  I didn’t really care for her from the first time I met her.  Due to her facial profile and hairstyle, she always reminded me of Big Bird.  I know that is not nice to say, and it reminds me of a line that Larry the Cable Guy uses when he tells a joke that is in poor taste.  He says a little prayer that goes like this, “Lord, forgive me for saying that, and please be with the starving pigmies in New Guinea.”  For some weird reason, that always makes me laugh. 

We checked into the hospital and got all settled in to our room.  As nice as a hospital room can be, I can never get comfortable because of the simple fact that at some  point in time there has been a massive amount of bodily fluids sprayed all over that place.  The nurse showed me the “bed” I would get to use that night.  It was actually a chair, and it was extremely uncomforta….. wait, teaching moment:  Brady and Alex, when you read this I need you to pick up on the fact that your dad is teetering on the ledge of looking like an insanely ridiculous jerk.  After what I saw your mom go through having the two of you and your sister, I guess sleeping on a “bedair” isn’t so bad.  (between you and me, though – it was horrible).

The waiting game lasted until the middle of the next morning when Big Bird and the nurses came in to tell us it was “that time”.  Here we go – the moment we had been waiting for.  We had decided not to find out ahead of time if we were having a boy or a girl so we could enjoy that surprise when the doctor announces, “Congratulations, it’s a _____!”   We didn’t exactly get that moment from Big Bird.  Here is what we got after the endurance and pushing to finally meet our baby:  “Well, it’s a boy and he has a club foot”.  Ok – I know she said a boy but I am not sure what that last part meant but we were having a boy!  It was incredible to see him get placed in Emily’s arms.  This was our new little guy and we were complete.  Brady Clay was here and the world was getting a wonderful addition added to it.

The next morning, our Pediatrician came for a visit to our room and explained the club foot situation.  Brady’s right foot was turned in at a complete 90 degree angle.  We were scheduled to see an Orthopedic specialist in two days to see what was needed to be done to correct it.  With all the complications that could come at childbirth, this was pretty minor, but again, this is our son and the obvious concerns crept into my mind:  Will he be in pain, will he be able to run and play with other kids, can he play sports, etc.  We met with the specialist and the plan was made to attempt a series of castings to try and stretch it out to allow it to self-correct. 

Brady got his first cast at 4 days old.  We proceeded to go through the ritual of putting on a cast and cutting it off 1-2 weeks later (due to the rapid growth at that age).  Brady hated getting hair cuts during the first couple of years because the clippers sounded like the saw that was used to cut off his casts.  His little face would turn so red while he cried during the straightening of his foot while the casts were applied.  We went through this for a year and a half with very little success. 

During this time, we moved to Nashville.  We saw a new doctor at Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital who finally recommended surgery.  This was great news to us since now we felt we were actually taking action to correct the problem head-on.  Brady’s ligaments were lengthened  to allow for growth and the straightening of his foot.  A full leg cast was then applied to be worn for 6 weeks.  During this six week period, Alex was to be born.  We were praying they got off to a good start together or Brady had himself a built-in weapon on that leg that little Alex would not be able to use any baby Matrix moves to avoid impact.  Brady actually learned to walk with that cast on.  It was sweet, yet sad at the same time to see our little peg-leg pirate walking around with the natural limp that the cast caused.  We had concerns that walking like that would cause some hip problems but we couldn’t keep him down and, to be honest, we didn’t want to.

Obviously, we were extremely relieved to finally get that cast cut off and see our little dude’s “new foot”.  In the months that followed, Brady showed great improvement in his balance and ability to walk, run, and play.  Jumping took quite a bit of time as he adjusted to getting strength and confidence in that right leg, but he eventually got it.  Since he went through the majority of the first two years of his life in a cast, he did always seem to be a little hesitant to try anything new, but this slowly got better as well over time.  I don’t know if his personality was shaped from this experience or not, but Brady is one of the most thoughtful and kind little guys that I know of.  I realize I am his dad, and to say this probably sounds a little slanted, but slanted or not, it is the truth.   He represents our family well and I am more proud of him than he will ever know.

I really don’t know if he remembers much about the experience.  He never really asks about it except for when he mentions his scar.  Watching him run and play soccer makes me smile and gives me the occasional flashback to those two years and how far he has come.  It also makes me thankful to God for allowing him to be born in a day and time where a club foot can be corrected.  Our family has been taken care of far beyond what we “deserve”.  This brings me back to what he wrote on that Doodle Pad (or “draw” as we call it).  His little hand scrawled out the following inscription while his eyes focused on the task with his tongue sticking out in full-blown 6 year old concentration:   “I am a boy.  I like to run.  My name is Brady.” That is how he should have been announced to the world.  This is me doing my part to make that happen :)

Oh, and by the way, a message to that pitiful doctor that made my wife’s first pregnancy a little less enjoyable than it should have been:  “Doc, my boy can run and I am fairly confident that you still look like Big Bird.”  Lord I apologize for saying that, and please be with those pigmies in New Guinea.