4 Years

     My friend Tracey is amazing.  She completed an Ironman triathlon recently, and I don't know if you know how crazy it is, but it's crazy.  The Ironman distances are as follows: 2.4-mile (3.86 km) swim, a 112-mile (180.25 km) bike and a marathon 26.2-mile (42.2 km) run, in that order.  In a row.  People actually choose to do this.  Tracey is one of these, and I am amazed, truly amazed at this feat.  Her husband Matt is gold, and he does triathlons as well, they have three kids and Trace is my age. (well slightly older, but who's counting...)

     She finished in a time of 11:41:08.  11 hours, 41 minutes and 8 seconds. (I thought she could have got 11:41:07, but she probably dogged it that last bit, so lazy...)  After her race I sent her a congratulations and we were texting back and forth and I was wondering how the heck you do something like this, not just physically, but mentally.  She sent me this,

     "I give a lot of credit to my coach, she really taught me how to break it down and make it manageable.  If you think too much about how big the goal is you can freak yourself out.  The marathon is one of the biggest tests ever because you're already so tired. I had stomach pains the whole time manifesting from the race. Julie gave me the tools to know what to do when problems like that came up so I could get through and it worked.  Everything is possible!!!"

     Hmmm. It was such an encouragement to me to read this.  Not because I figure I am going to go compete in an Ironman any time soon, but because of the slap in the face practical lesson this was to me.

     Today, it has been 4 years since my wife Krista passed away just 4 days after giving birth to our third child, my daughter Sophie.  4 years.  I was visiting with some friends tonight, Ash and Dave, who are basically family, and Soph came outside to ask something. (We were visiting while the kids were watching "Super Buddies", yet another installment in the talking dog genre of Disney films, the kids liked it, maybe yours will, Anyway back to the matter at hand...)  When Soph came out and then went back inside, it was impossible not to think about Krista's funeral because Ash and Dave took care of Soph the whole day that day. 4 (minus a couple days) years ago.  They are awesome people, they were such a huge help and it allowed me to be fully present mentally and physically so I could deal with the multitude of thoughts and emotions and jobs that needed to be done on that day.  I didn't have to worry about Soph on the day of the funeral because they just took care of it.

   They live out of town and we see each other once or twice a year, so when they see Soph, and when I see them see Soph, it's amazing to be confronted with the reality of how much time has passed.  It's like time can be measured in actual visual units when you see the growth in a kid in visits that are separated by large amounts of time.  It's happened to all of us, seeing the change in someone you don't see often makes you reflect on your own life, thinking back to the last time you saw that person, then realizing just many ticks have come off the clock.

     Change sometimes comes slowly and sometimes quickly, but it always comes.  Often when it is slow we are dissatisfied and want it to pick up the pace. "The Devil Wears Prada" was a movie Krista and I laughed at together, and the sarcastic line, "By all means, move at a glacial pace..." comes to mind.  Sometimes we just want change right away.

     Sometimes we want change to slow down.  Sometimes I want my kids to grow up more quickly because then I will have more freedom and not have to do the busywork of parenting younger children.  But in those moments when everyone is still, we are all snuggling on the couch, and Jax, Grace, or Soph, whisper to me, "I love you Dad." Or Grace and Soph say, "Can I sit on your knee.", or "Can you tickle me?", well those are the times I want change to slow right down to a stop.

   I have had change. You have had change.  Sometimes it hurts.  Sometimes it's the greatest thing ever.

   I went to a wedding this summer involving two former students of mine, Katie and Nathan.  It was a beautiful wedding.  I love weddings, I really do.  I love watching the bride walk down the aisle, and the love in the groom's eyes as he focuses on her.  I love the excitement in the groomsmen and bridesmaids.  I love the trepidation/confidence happening at the same time in the two sets of parents.  I just love the idea of love.  I had been thinking about my own life and what that love of love holds for me.  Going to their wedding reminded me a lot of my own wedding day.  Krista and I wanted to make it a God focused day.  We had worship music, scripture and prayer as centerpieces to our wedding.  We just wanted it that way.  Katie and Nate had the same thing.  It was a wedding that just felt right.  It was fun, but the gravity of the commitment was not diminished.  It had a very large impact on me.

     Their wedding sent a rush of memories and emotions through me.  Lamenting the loss of Krista, taking joy in the good memories.  Man, there were a lot of thoughts going on. While I was observing their ceremony, one thing I realized was that I wanted that again.  I really do want to love someone again, and be able to care for them, and be cared for.  I have no idea how that would manifest itself, but the thought is there.

   More importantly,  it also made me sure that I want what I saw and felt at Katie and Nate's wedding.  I want the same level of a commitment to God than those two had, which reminded me of the main core of beliefs that Krista and I shared.  I won't change that to be in a relationship, if a relationship opportunity happens for me again.  I think the core values of two people are very important to evaluate when considering a serious relationship or marriage.  I may have a great time with someone, but when major decisions have to be made, if the core of each of you beliefs is significantly different, it's probably going to a little tougher to navigate those decisions.   Jesus Christ is the main source of hope for me.  I don't have all the answers to all the questions people have about the nuances of the Christian faith.  There are many ways people live it out, which is both a strength and a weakness.  The Christian church is made up of people, which have rubbed many others the wrong way and done its fair share of damage in the world in the name of Christ.  I don't like that.  But just because it hasn't always been carried out the way it probably should have been (that's up for debate too) it doesn't mean it's totally wrong.  Many different faiths have made mistakes in the way they present and carry themselves in the world as well.  Atheists too.

    What I'm trying to say is that we all live for something, we all make choices on how we will live.  Choices on how we try to bring good into this life.  I choose Jesus.  I'm not perfect, I make mistakes, some of you may disagree with my choice in Christ.  I may disagree with yours.  I guess that's part of life, learning how to bring good into it, even though we may not agree on some issues.

   Tracey completed an Ironman. She was only able to do it because her coach helped her to break the huge race into small, manageable goals.  She was also given techniques to deal with the problems she would face so that she could finish the race.

    Isn't that how we all need to approach life?  I'll tell you, her message to me gave me clarity.  It reminded me not to look at the whole future in front of my kids and I and wonder, "How am I supposed to deal with this life?  It's too much and there are too many variables!"  Small manageable goals.  Don't focus on the whole thing or you will freak out.  I feel like I have had a lot of good coaches in life.  Jesus is a version of a coach to me, (even though it PAINS me to say that because it's like I'm closing off a massively cheesy sermon with one of the greatest cliches in Christian preaching...) But dang it, it's true. Praying is giving up the things I can't handle to someone who can. I know that sometimes prayer does not always give tangible answers that you can see, but sometimes it does.  (There are whole books on prayer, so if you want to talk about it more, just e-mail me and I can let you know some of them, because I can't come even close to talking about that huge subject in a blog post that you have already probably stopped reading...)

    I hope if you are going through a crisis, that you can break things down into some small goals that can get you through the insanity.    

    Life without Krista has been hard, but it has still had goodness in it.  My kids are loved and are doing well in life and in school. They know they have purpose.  They love others. We love each other.  Krista would be so proud of them, and I think she would be proud of me too.

I still hurt, but it's different.  It's changing.  It all changes.  Keep up your race, you will finish. Persevere.  I also want to again thank all of the people around our family that have been coaches and teammates on this journey.  My kids and I could not do about a million things that we get to do without all of you.  Thank you.

James 1:4 - Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

P.S. - Tracey, thanks for all your training and endless hard work so that you could complete an Ironman just to teach me a lesson about my life.  You really didn't have to do it just for lil' old me, but I sure do appreciate it.