You Know Nothing Joel Vogt - Part 1

It has been over a year since I have posted on this Blog.  I have many excuses, but it all comes down to my lack of direction in my writing.  My initial reason to start this blog was lost.  I forgot my purpose... my direction.


I am starting a series today.  This will be primarily about my journey to finding God.  If things of this nature typically offend you because you feel that they are preachy or talk down to people I Strongly encourage you to read this anyway.  I was just like you a few months ago.

 I am not sure how many parts there will be.  I will be sharing many things with you that I have mostly kept to myself.

If you are Christian that is not 100% grounded in your faith I must strongly recommend that you do not look up several things that I will write about during this series unfolding.  I will Highlight specifics that I think are dangerous in red. Many things in this series may surprise you, or change your opinion of me.  You may  learn things that you do not know about me yet.  You may be surprised, or upset, or angry at me if you love me.   You may not feel any of these things at all and I may just be assuming things.  I am trusting that God is with me while I write this, and I am praying that the message comes though very safely and clearly.  Let's get right into it shall we?

This next paragraph is how this story was relayed to me throughout my life.  Sorry Mom and Dad for any inaccuracies or continuity issues.

My mother and father met in high school.  My father was very active in the Catholic church and my mother became so after they got together.  When they were both 18 they found out that they were going to have a child together.  They got married before the birth and they began teaching CCD classes. (For my protestant friends it is best related to Sunday school, or religion classes).
March 7th, 1986 was a Friday.  At 5 pm on this Friday My mother gave birth to me after many many hours in labor.  Upon my exit I broke her tail bone.  This does not seem like an important event in my life, but it is.  I harmed my mother coming into this world.  I did not do it on purpose, but I did it nonetheless.  I did not want to come out, and I had to be pulled out with forceps. I had to be dragged into this world kicking and screaming, and in doing so the person I had been closest to in my life got hurt.

Being raised by two CCD teachers is an interesting life.  I knew the priests at our church.  I knew many people from the people who worked at the church or the CCD office.  I attended the Catholic School. Everyone that I met there knew me even if I didn't know them.  My life revolved around church, and everything I was taught involved God.  I was allowed to play Street Fighter and Donkey Kong and Mario, and I was allowed to watch Power Rangers, but I was not allowed to watch Ninja Turtles because they were too violent.
.  I remember something  that happened when I was 4 or 5.   I had a dream about Jesus.  I don't remember the actual dream, but I do remember telling my Granny that I had the dream.  I also remember lying to her about it later and telling her details that I knew weren't true.  This is the first lie that I remember telling.  I told her that it was baby Jesus that came to me, and I told her things that he said...

I had been raised to believe that the Devil was the worst thing that you should be afraid of.  I was terrified that the Devil was going to come take me away if I did something bad... even though that is likely not what I was taught.  I remember laying in bed and dreaming of him.  I DO remember this one.  I couldn't have been in bed for more than 20 minutes.  I Saw 3 wrinkled up balloons on the ground.  As I moved closer to inspect them they started to inflate.  Each balloon was morphing into a strange shape... it was a face.. and ANGRY face.  It was the face of a wrinkled up old angry man with ears that resembled Yoda's Ears.  I sprang out of bed crying.  I ran into the Living room where my mommy and daddy were and my daddy grabbed me up, and he asked me what was wrong.  When I told him he prayed with me for a good long time and he held me as I cried.    I felt safe because he told me that I was safe.  I knew that my guardian angel was there to protect me.  I knew that God was there to save me.  Mommy and Daddy were like superheroes, and I always trusted them.

Life continued in that way until my parents divorced when I was 7.

Divorce in itself can be difficult on a child, but this was something tougher for me to deal with than just a divorce.  We stopped attending church.  It wasn't right away, but it did happen.  I still attended CCD classes, but I did not attend church very often if at all.  My mommy stopped enforcing her rules about me only listening to Christian radio.  My daddy slowly became More and more angry about little things.  They both remarried and neither couple went to church weekly.  I stopped praying every night.  I was still a strong believer but I had no direction. I just believed what people told me and I did not have an age appropriate Children's Bible.  I slowly lost my core.  I lost what was the basis of my life.  This left a hole that needed filling, and Video games were the right shape and size to make me whole again.  They were challenging, and kept my mind off of the chaos that had become my life.  Video games slowly became my life.

When I needed to escape I could always find my escape in Zelda and Final Fantasy.  It was just challenging enough to keep my attention, but not so hard that it made me want to give up.  Just thinking about it now makes me want to go play.... but I won't.  Don't worry.  This is much more important to finish.  

I knew the ending, but I had to be the hero and save everyone.  I had to be the guy who defeated the evil.  I had to be the superhero.  I didn't realize it at the time, but what I was really feeling was that I had to be like Jesus... and Zelda and Final Fantasy helped me feel like I was accomplishing that.

That's all for part one.  I hope it was a relatively easy read.  I will start right where I left off for Part two.

Letting go

Several years ago my mom and stepdad were helping my grandmother clean out her shed.  I remember being was around 14 or so years old.  They pulled out several toys from my childhood and set them by the garbage to be taken out.  I distinctly remember one toy in particular.  It was a riding toy, mostly white, with a bear's face on the front and a blue seat that could be lifted to gain access to the space inside of it for storage. 

When I saw this toy I was flooded with memories.  Though I had not played with, nor had I seen it in years, I immediately gravitated towards it.  I sat on it.  I opened the compartment.  I remembered being a child and worrying about childhood things... like the time i pooped my pants riding it. 

When my mom told me to leave it alone because it was garbage I protested.  I demanded that because it was mine I should get to decide what happens to it.  I felt sorrow at the thought of losing this toy again.  I did not want our time together to end again, but it was taken from me and thrown into the trash pile. 
Nobody knew it at the time, but I cried later that day.  I could not let go.  I could not accept that I would never be able to put my tiny hands on that toy again.  It was not a symbol of fun, but a symbol for being young.

This has been a constant in my life.  I have something.  It could be as simple as a toy, as complex as a relationship, or even just a feeling of that period in my life. I lose it whatever it is I no longer have it.  Sometimes I don't notice at first, but often I notice immediately.  As soon as I become aware of it  I grieve for what is probably a longer period of time than the average person.    I move on after much grieving.  Then,  after I mostly forget about it I am reminded again about how much fun I used to have. 
This starts the grieving process over again.

Grief for me is the period of time it takes to realize that something is out of my control.  As a human being I desire control.  I want to feel powerful.  It may only be power over my own life, but controlling your own destiny is a very desirable thing for many people.  When I hold onto these things I am really just holding on to my emotions about these things or people or time periods.  I want to feel the way that I felt when these thing were a part of my life. 

I have often longed for things to be simple like they used to seem.  There was a time that I thought my ideal life was within grasp and I barely missed it.  For a long time i believed that I had missed out on the perfect life.  It took my wonderful wife and children to show me that my ideal life at that time was not my ideal life forever.  As I have become more Daddy and less Joel I have discovered that I am really not in control of much.  Adding to that is that the more I try to control, the more stress I have and the less things go the way i want them to go. 

Every time I let something hard to control go I feel a sense of relief.  Every time I give up on something impossible I get closer to my true potential.  Every time I remove the chains holding me back I move forward just a bit more.  Letting go of the past makes room for more future.

A look in the mirror of time.

Often, too often in fact, I find myself looking back on a particular period of my life and wondering where "it" all went wrong.  I sit back and chastise myself repeatedly making poor decisions, and I relentlessly pummel my  inadequate planning.  It generally starts off as a simple look into my past.  I begin a walk down memory lane and suddenly it all comes back.  I'm in a situation, and I get to watch myself from a third person viewpoint.  I sit back and watch my past as a normal person watches a horror movie. 

    "No dummy!  Don't do it!" I say to myself,  sometimes loudly.

    This type of reflection is very helpful for future decision making, but occasionally I find myself stuck in one specific memory.  It may take days or weeks to properly move past, or it may take as much as years.  Ive developed some psychological tools to help myself recently, and this blog is dedicated to passing them on to other people who may find them helpful.  I am certain that I am crazy, but I am also certain that I am not the only person who reflects internally and occasionally becomes stuck. 

     Tool 1.  You can call it reliving the situation.  Most often I find myself upset because of a way that I reacted to something, generally when I became upset or had a feeling of low self worth. 
I take the situation and recreate it in my mind, and I turn it into a positive ending. 
Step one is to clear your mind completely through  breathing excercises or meditation, and step two is to simply imagine the entire situation up to your reaction.  Change your reaction  Right before you remember yourself react.  You may have to do this over and over again but it will work.  Just always imagine it the same way you imagine a memory. 

Tool 2. 
This one is a simple tool.  It is tried and true and has never failed me.  Call a friend. 
Don't expect advice.  Don't expect answers.  Don't call somebody involved in the situation.  Just ask to talk and follow through with it.  Don't hold back.  Don't be afraid.  Be yourself and say what you want to say.  Often these things in our hearts are the things most necessary to be said out loud.  Friends always know what to say to put your heart at ease.

Tool 3. 
Imagine your life the way you want.  How does that look?  Are you happy?  Why are you happy?  Who is in your happy life?  What do you bring to their life in this world?  How close are you to this happy life now?  Would reacting differently in the past have helped create that life? 
If the answer is no, then you have your reason to move past it.  If the answer is yes then I have a statement for you...
Too Bad!  You can't go back to the past and change anything, but you can let the past change you!   Make sure that you don't make the same mistake twice.  Don't screw it up and Don't give up on yourself.  Aside from our parents and children we are our own biggest fans.  Be who you want to be, and start being him or her Today Not Tomorrow.  You have to start by trusting yourself, and everything else falls into place. 
.
I hope this reaches and helps at least one other crazy person like myself. 

How Being Bullied Affected My Life

Here's something many people dont know about me: i struggle to be happy.  Every single day that i wake up i get pumped.  I intentionally pump myself up in an effort to become the most positive person around me.  I live by the words "itll all work out"  and "give it time, itll make sense" but every day i have to remind myself that i am happy.  I have a beautiful wife and 2 beautiful kids.  I  am blessed with a great job, and some great opportunities.  So why do I feel this way?

To answer this I find myself in a time machine in my mind.  Im going back to my earliest memories... way back to what i had early in life. 
For those of you who didnt know me, i was always very small for my age.  I was almost always picked last on sports teams and i constantly found myself digging in and taking verbal abuse from the other kids.

I was very sensitive.  I would cry if the right person taunted me enough because i couldnt figure out what i was feeling. 
You see, most of my life i was told that I could do anything.  I was told that all i had to do was focus on school and it would all work out... i was never truly taught how to handle conflict.  "Go get the teacher"  "if you have to defend yourself, make sure you do it with honor"  well thats great and all, but i didnt even know what honor was and telling the teacher either got me picked on by the other kids or worse: i sometimes got in trouble for tattling.  I struggled to make friends, and often found myself being pushed around on the playground for being a loser. 

Sometimes these "bullies" were my "friends". 
I just had to stop typing for a few minutes to deal with some memories i had surpressed i guess... the more i type the harder this gets.

I was constantly rejected by groups of boys from kindedgarten til 2nd grade.  There i began to realize that i got along better with girls than boys.  I clung to my friends, the girls, who would sometimes even tell a teacher for me if i was getting picked on too hard.  At least they did something when all i did was sit there and cry "joel the mole who cries in his hole."  "Wheres your "nunu" crybaby?(thats a reference to what i called my grandmother)  "Look everyone, I made him cry again"(his name was james... i remember him well.  I wont post his last name in case he is a decent person now.) 
I grew up eventually.  I remember being in 7th grade sitting in front of a kid who was held behind a year.  He always messed with me.  One day  When the teached stepped out for a minute he started hitting me in the back.  The first 4 i ignored, but on the fifth i stood up and turned around and yelled  "you know what "m"(for anonymity again),  im really tired of your shit."  The teacher came back in and looked at me shaking mad, and looked out at a stunned class.  He told me not to curse and reprimanded "m" for messing with me.  This is the first time i remember sadness turning to anger, and the first time i remember using anger as a weapon. 

Over the years i started using anger as a defense mechanism even before i was attacked.  I got so used to being attacked that i stayed angry... almost all of the time.  I never got into a fight at school, but i was taunted so many times.  I would just fire back a snarky remark and walk away.  Hoping that i could hurt them by keeping them from seeing me cry.  Over the years i stopped crying all together.  I stopped listening.  I became disengaged. 

I was so very distant from what was around me until my sophmore year.  Johnny Lala told me about these "HALO" parties that him and his friends had.  Then he invited me.  Because i had become so fantastic at video games, i was quickly accepted.  This introduced me to the joy of friendship, and what i sometimes call "pack mentality." 
Over those three years of high school i found myself being more and more accepted.  I finally found a clique.  I finally found a group that accepted me.  I clung to Halo as my lifeline to society.  I also began trash talking for the first time... and that led to bullying.  I took all of my hate and anger and used it as fuel to make other people feel bad.  I threw out words like daggers to people below my social rank.  I would take abuse daily and dish it out at every opportunity.

I later used my ability in halo to make friends after high school.  I clung to the series throughout college and beyond as it was my coping mechanism.  It allowed me to belong to something that i was good at.  Many other things were involved in making me who i am but none so much can explain my emotional state as my relationship with those games.

This is the result of everything ive explained: i couldnt feel certain emotions without working at them, Barring a selct few variances.  Instead of what i think is happiness, i felt the same way i do when a dissonant chord resolves.  Its a sense of complete.  I didnt felt sadness like i used to either.  I felt anger and hurt.  I didnt get dissappointed.  I got angry.  I didnt often feel helpless.  I got angry.  Really this all went on until i realized that i had another option. 

I stopped.  I stopped blaming others for my problems.  It isnt their fault that i didnt stand up to my attackers earlier in life.  It isnt anyone elses fault that i was too weak to help myself.  I was so weak that i took my weakness out on others.  That wasnt anyones fault but my own. 

I do still find it hard to be happy.  Im find im constantly thinking that i must be missing something.  I find it hard to cry because ive been so strong for so long.   Crying in front of someone is vulnerability.   I cant bring myself to let the tears fall.  I cant let go of some things in the past, no matter how small, because of the potential.  I find myself obsessed with the potential more than the actual.  That goes for people i meet in every aspect of ny life too not just opportubities in my own life.  I have a tendency to see the best in people that they cant see themselves. 

  I cant sleep now...
I might not finish this post.

Who am I?  What do I feel?  Why am i where i am?

Everyday i answer these questions on the drive to work, or in the shower, or some other opportunity to be alone. 
"Im Joel Vogt.  Im happy because i should be and I am damn good at my job.  No person in this world is more confident than i am.  Noone.  Not a single one.  They reject me? Forget em, I dont need em.  Laugh at me?  Doesnt matter because it isnt my fault that they aspire to be like me.  Im a winner and im good at everything i put my energy into.  Not everyone can say that.  Put that confidence to work and please try to be more humble" 

The only thing i generally feel is confidence.
Ive replaced all of that negativity with it due to my chanting over and over in my head.  Im good at so many things. Im strong willed... and i owe it to being bullied. 
Sometimes Im vulnerable, paranoid, scared, hateful, doubtful, untrusting, lonely, angry, and many many other negative emotions.  These i owe to myself being human. 

Sometimes replacing all of those positive emotions with confidence is a strength.  Sometimes it is a weakness.  Lately  i cant seem to figure which is which...  its been weird lately.  Like the whole world is shifting.... ill pick that up in another blog soon.
 

Losing and physical pain are life's natural teachers

What do losing and physical pain have in common?  I posed this question a few hours ago and I was surprised not to see more responses.   Last night I had something hit me.  It hit me like it's been staring me in the face. I'm a loser.  I've been a loser my whole life.

Now now now calm down.  Hear me out.    I'm not talking about that guy that lives in his mother's basement at an unspeakable age with no ambition or skill to contribute to society.  I also don't mean that guy with no marketable personality or charm that just creeps around.  You know.  The stereotypical loser.

I mean that I have lost in so many things in my life over and over.  Sometimes my losses were of my own doing.  Sometimes other people contributed to my losses by being better than me, sabotaging me, or some other means.  I have lost at just about everything I have ever done.  I've lost over and over and over again at countless tasks and competitions.  I've lost in relationships both personal and professional. I've lost in competitions as a child.  I've lost in competitions at work as an adult.  I've chosen the wrong job move and lost.  I've made countless mistakes. I've lost, and from losing I have learned how to win.

When it comes to physical pain I love the hot iron scenario.  When a parent turns on an iron to iron clothes very little about the iron changes.  A small light may come on and it may steam if they are like me and always turn it on too hot to begin with.  To a child the iron may simply seem to exist, neither in a "hot" or "cold" state.  Surely a responsible parent would not leave a small child alone with an iron, most certainly not a hot iron.  Let's pretend in this scenario that the child is mischievous and climbs really well.  The parent can spend all the time in the world teaching this child that the iron is hot, but without actual life experience the child cannot fully comprehend or understand what that means.  Yes yes yes tell a child "don't touch that" but all parents know that when you tell most children not to do something they are immediately plotting to do just that.  When the parent isn't looking the child climbs up and badly burns themselves.  The child learns.  The hot iron is hot.

Most physical pain is like this.  Often our bodies let us know when we are doing something that hurts. Yes there are always exceptions like chronic pain or illnesses that cause pain but those are not what i'm talking about.  I'm talking about reactionary pain.  "When I do this, I feel this,"  pain.  This type of pain teaches us how to survive on this planet.  It keeps us from seriously injuring ourselves by making a punishment correlation.  We remember what hurts and we do it differently.  Even when we work out and exercise we sometimes find that the method we are using or our "technique" is wrong because of what muscles are sore the next day.

Losing is just the same.  I am who I am because I'm a loser.  I've lost so  many times, but with each loss has come a lesson.  Sometimes the lesson is simply that I can't succeed in that field.  Sometimes I'm able to look back at my mistakes and learn from them.  I'm always able to be a stronger person because of them.  Sometimes I take losing hard.  That's because it isn't easy.  Just like physical pain losing hurts.  It hurts that basic self worth and pride that is held deep within the human heart.  Most people learn more from losing than they ever do from winning.  Winning is nice and necessary.  If you never win in life the potential to grow to resent competition increases exponentially.  Losing isn't fun, but it is as essential as our physical pain.  It teaches us what not to do and how to do things better.

Neither of these experiences are complete without thought and contemplation.  If a child touches the iron and burns themselves they are doomed to repeat it if they don't realize that their own actions burned them.  The same parallel can be drawn with losing.  Without reflection and analysis of why I've lost so much in my life I could never achieve any level of success.  I'm a loser, sure, but I'm so much more than that.  I learn from my mistakes.  I learn when I get hurt.  I learn when I lose.  Most of all I apply everything I learn the next time I am confronted with a situation.

All there is left to ask is whether you could say the same about yourself.

Anyone remember Joel before Brook... oh boy... I do.

When I was 21 I disconnected myself from most of my friends.  By the time of my 21st birthday I had discovered that I needed around 1/3 of my income to barely survive, and I began spending the rest of it on frivolous things.  As I was single and had nobody to shower with gifts, I simply spent the money on things for my civic or alcohol.  I wasn't happy, pure and simple.  I was downright miserable.  At that point in my life I valued myself based on how many people loved me, or more specifically how much the woman I was with loved me.  I didn't have a whole lot of self worth is what I'm saying.  

I found myself spending upwards of $1,000 per month on alcohol for my "friends" and I and anyone who happened to come around.  Any time that I wasn't working I was drinking.  I drank more alcohol between January and May of that year than I have in the rest of my life hands down.

I kept hoping that in the right setting I would find the "girl of my dreams" and she would make it all better.    I kept trying to change the world around me.  Maybe in the right circumstances I could find her.  Maybe if I try really hard She would just appear.  

In April I started attending a class that opened my eyes a little bit, and it helped me to see that the problem was with me.  I was broken.  I didn't love myself.  I couldn't let go of hate.  Even after knowing all of this, I couldn't find the strength or the courage to open myself up and forgive myself and move on.

It all began to fall apart in May.  My two roommates started bringing weed into the house (Something I said would cause me to have to move) and my  heart began to feel heavier and heavier with guilt and shame.  Even now I can feel the weight of all of it in my chest, so many years later.  

One day, drunk out of my mind, I began to cry.  Nothing spurred it on.  I just couldn't take the weight of all of my self loathing and self destruction.  I remember waking up the next day and talking to God for the first time in a long time.  I sat on the sofa, alone in the house and told God what I needed.  I apologized and admitted my weakness.  I cried more, and finally I asked for one "simple" thing: Somebody to love.  

I even went on to list qualities that to some seem frivolous, but were important..  It went something like this:
She should be shorter than me, with dark hair and light eyes.  She should have an amazing sense of humor.  She can't struggle with addictions because I have an amazing ability to fall into vices and I couldn't succeed in life if she does too.  She has to understand that pizza making was more than a job to me.  She has to be on board with the idea of me being around.  a lot.  She has to be forgiving because I'm sure to make mistakes.  She Must be Sarcastic like me, and completely get my type of jokes.  She has to be into cars and hopefully has a nice car that we can hang out and talk about(Yeah I know).  Oh, and God... if she has a kid that wouldn't bother me in the least... you know I've always wanted kids...

I didn't ask for her simply to make me happy, but also because I wanted to make her happy.  I wanted to see the joy on someone's face when I made their day.

The next day at work I was introduced to our new assistant manager, Brook.  We started talking about life and where we came from.  I don't remember much, but I do remember going home and telling my roommate's girlfriend that I met a girl who was "Perfect" and that I was going to marry her.  

As we got to know each other better Brook told me that she wasn't interested in a relationship or guys in general right now because she was still working on her.  I respected that...sort of.  I wanted to show her how awesome we could be together so I came up with an elaborate scheme... I'll invite her to Taco Bell after close.  But wait... that's a lame date.  Instead of that, how about I make it a group thing.  So we started going to taco bell after close and eating sitting on the hood of someone's car.  Eventually (And as expected) we became the only two nuts to go out there.  

Every Friday night after close we would go to taco bell and hang out.  Just the two of us.  On nights that we didn't go to Taco Bell we texted or talked on the phone... all night.  Some days I wouldn't text her or call her, you know just to not seem overzealous.  On those nights she would message me on yahoo messenger. 

Eventually she went to work for another Store and we began to talk on the phone a lot more.  We still hung out on Fridays and even after she wrecked her car I would go pick her up and bring her to taco bell so we could hang out.  I stopped drinking and moved in with my sister.  

Finally I asked her on a date.  We had known each other for a good while and I figured that if I was to avoid the friend zone I only had another month or two at best.  I asked her to go see Harry Potter with me.  When I got there, she was already in the theater and had bought her own ticket...Obviously this was not a date.  

So I tried again.  I believe it was IHOP.  I got her to come hang out and eat a breakfast for dinner meal with me.  When the server brought the check she asked for it to be separate.... Obviously not a date.  

On the way home from that trip I figured I might as well spill the beans and tell her I had a thing for her. I waited for her response, and I began to run through how to react to rejection... 

Then she said that she had a thing for me too...

So I asked why she kept not letting these outings be dates and she simply said that she didn't know that they were supposed to be dates....

Not long after we were a couple.

Soon we were engaged.

Before you know it we were married.

I thought I knew what I wanted when I asked for her.

but no list that I ever could have put together could have sent me a more perfect woman.  

My Wife.

My lovely wife.

How would I get through this life without you?

You've given me so much more than you could ever know.

Because I know you, every thing in my life is better.

Today I remember how I changed not for you, or because of you, but simply by being around you.

You've shown me how to be a better person.

You've shared in this adventure called parenting that basically consumes my every thought.

I'm more proud of our accomplishments so far as parents than any other achievement in my life.

You've tolerated my hobbies, and even when they almost drove you nuts.

You've held me when I hurt inside, and you are one of the only people to have seen me at my weakest moments. 

You are patient and kind and forgiving.

You never give up on me and you are always there to help me.

I have come so far because of your love.

  

I love you in a way that I never thought I could love another.

I asked God for a miracle

and he sent me you.

Happy Valentine's Day Brook.

...by the way I didn't spend money on a card this year :)

This is not some cry for help. This is the start of something. This is a revolution.

Brook and I made a commitment to each other in January of 2013.  We decided that we were going to get our bodies the way we want them.  We were going to work really hard for about a year and then we were going to try to have a second child.  We purchased Insanity (a workout program), and many different foods to help us lose weight.  We decided that the best way to go at it was to hit it hard.  Both of us were ready.  For the first time in our marriage we had both decided that no matter what happened we were going to finish this intense 60 day program.

On the first day we both were intensely tired and out of breath after the workout.  Brook said "this time we are going to finish this" and she went to write on our chalk board.  She wrote the words "Insanity 1/14/13!  Suck it up and DO IT!"  The second day found us both very exhausted but she seemed much more fatigued at the end than I was.  This is not typical.  generally when we do anything that is related to cardio I finish in much worse shape than she does. Together we helped each other off of the ground and we had a recovery shake each.  On the third day is where the real fun begins.  We started to work out and about five minutes in she was sitting on the ground and kept saying "I can't."  These two words are not usually uttered by my wife or myself and I tried to convince her.  I said "look at that board!  Remember what you said about suck it up and do it!"  My wonderful wife was in tears and said again "I can't."

Then, like she was just slapped in the back of the head, she looked up at me with big eyes and a  seemingly renewed sense of energy and said something that would change my life in ways that I never thought one sentence could.  Brook said "I haven't had my period in a while."    

I didn't react as some of you may expect.  I simply smiled and said nonchalantly "ya want me to go get a test?"  Not too long after that I found out that I was due to be a father to a new little life.  I didn't get overly excited or grateful.  Instead of that I immediately began to fear.  I was worried about how this unplanned pregnancy was going to affect my wife.  I was worried about what kind of birth defects my child may have.  I was fearful of the hardships that my baby would endure in this hateful destructive world.  I then sank into true Joel mode.  My life has been a big question, and i need to know the answers before I find out through experience.  I research and read about everything.  I don't like to be surprised by anything.  I plan everything down to my conversations.  I spend extra time in my day reviewing conversations and interactions with other people.  I think "how could I have handled this situation better?"  I spend countless hours at night wondering what people think about me.  I worry and I worry and I worry until I fall asleep and then I dream about terrible things.  I have these nightmares and these fears that I won't be a great this or that.

For 1 month things seemed fine, and then my wonderful wife began to bleed.  I called Brian into work and left before he got there.  I took Brook to the ER and they evaluated her. They determined that she had a problem with the placenta being pulled away from the uterine wall: Likely miscarriage unless she stayed on bed rest for a then undetermined amount of time.  The next three days were very difficult.  Brook and I had to work together.  I took on the responsibilities of the house and I did everything in my power to keep brook laying on the sofa and comfortable.  Not long after that Brook got cleared to return to her normally scheduled life.

At 5 months or so Brook and I were back in the hospital to get her checked out because she couldn't walk.  The baby was pressing on her sciatic nerve and was causing some intense pain. After that situation was handled I spent a lot of time preparing myself to help my wife through the incoming bad news of a birth defect or even worse, a miscarriage.  I began mentally getting ready to not be sad.  Ready to be strong because that's who I am.  That is who I have had to be for so long.  I'm the strong one in my immediate family.  I am the confident rock that everyone can call and talk to.  I am the Stone that cannot be moved.  I am the unbreakable wall that is always here.  I am always here to help my friends, siblings, and even occasionally parents through any hardship or loss.  All they have to do is call me to get my love, sympathy, or even my admittedly sometimes cold analysis of a situation that they are involved in.  I speak truthfully and often without letting my emotions (or my filter) cloud my judgement.  I was ready for anything.  I was ready to assure Brook that it was nothing that we could have done.  I was ready to let her cry on my shoulder.  I was ready to love her and Anna through this hardship.  Nothing could have prepared me for what was to come.  Nothing could have prepared me for Molly Dean; not a thousand years of research, nor as many years hardening my heart to pain could have made me ready to receive the most breathtaking  moment of my life to date.

3 am and we were awake.  We were ready to leave at 4 am.  We got to the hospital at 4:30 am.  We were in the room by 4:45.  Everything was going perfectly.  Brook was prepped with an IV and leggings to prevent clots during surgery.  I was given a gown to put on at the last minute.  Brook was taken away from me to receive anesthesia.  I was told that they would come get me before they started the surgery.  Time started to pass... and pass... and fifteen minutes later someone came in and got me.  They had already begun but had not been going for very long.  I sat next to Brook and talked to her.  We shared a calm conversation about life and after a long silence I asked "Which kid at the daycare is your favorite?" and she yelled "You can't pick favorites with BABIES!"  That's when I heard it.  It was the most terrifying beautiful sound I could imagine.  Molly Dean began to cry.  She was taken away from us to be cleaned and I was allowed to go see her.  She had so much Hair but I couldn't believe how small she was.  6 lbs. 15 oz. and only 18 inches long.
But that isn't the amazing moment that I was talking about.  That doesn't come even close.

About 10 minutes later I was allowed in the nursery with my child.  Molly was lying naked on an incubation table.  She was crying a bit, so as any father would do I went over to her and held her hand between by fore finger and my thumb and talked to her.  I told her her name and welcomed her to the world.  Amazingly when I began to speak she got quiet and "listened".  That's when I felt a different feeling then ever in my life.  I was...Perfect.  Nothing was wrong.  I was enveloped in the most amazing feeling of love and confidence that I had ever felt.  I knew what I was doing and didn't have to think... I just needed to be there for her to give my love to her.  If I stopped talking to her, she began to cry. If I let go of her finger she cried.  I was even asked at one point to let her cry because she had fluid in her left lung and she needed to cry it out.  For the first time in a long time I told someone who "knew more than me" no.  I wasn't going to let my child cry because she was terrified.  She needed her father.  Molly needed me to be strong.

At first I thought that my whole life had been preparing me for that moment.  For the past two months I have felt like this.  I couldn't be more wrong.  I think that the past 11 months have been preparing me for the rest of my life.   In the past 11 months I think I was coming to this exact moment.  This moment when I put down in writing how I have been surviving.  I've been hanging on by a thread.  I've been slipping from my family and friends.  I've slipped away from myself.  Worse of all I've slipped away from my faith.  I believed that searching the world would give me the answers to the world's questions.  I researched many different cultures for answers.  I asked men and women.  I read what men and women wrote.  I was satisfied that I knew what the world is made of.

About two years ago I prayed, completely naked, before I got in the tub and asked God what was the reason for everything.  I need answers!  Please tell me that you are here and listening  I "heard" two words "Ezekiel," and "Timothy."  I talked to my father about this and he encouraged me to read both books of the Bible after telling me that Ezekiel translates to El Shaddai which means "The God who is more than enough"
I began reading Ezekiel and stopped because I was lazy and that wasn't my priority in life like I said it was.

As I've written this I used the words "I wasn't going to let my child cry because she was terrified.  She needed her father.  Molly needed me to be strong."  Let me take a few of those words and change them up a bit.  "He isn't going to let me be alone because I am terrified.  I need a Father.  I need him to be strong." I am not who he wants me to be.  I am not what he wants me to be.  I think I finally realize what I've been missing.  Please pray for me.  I'm giving in.  Too much of this is in my heart to deny it now.  Now it is written and I can re-read it if I need a reminder. Even when I'm alone,  I'm not alone.  Not Ever.

I titled this 2 months ago.  I started writing it then and got 4 sentences in.  A week and a half ago I wrote another sentence and deleted 3.  This is all that's left of it.  Everything after in the next paragraph.


For the past 3-4 years I have supposed to be finished in the transformation of my life.  I felt as though I was on on track to be great.  I was already on a path to greatness in my professional life, my Marriage, and in being a father.   All I had to do was avoid a few obstacles and jump a few hurdles.  Sounds simple right?

Yeah... Simple.