Collection of Found Objects

Giving a short talk about my experience fundraising with World Vision

“I signed up to race (Ironman) with World Vision this past January (2017) because I wanted a challenge. There are many places to volunteer time or effort, or donate money, and I chose World Vision because it was a new kind of challenge. I had raised money before for missions trips. I had raced before in very short races. But I wanted to do something to really stretch myself… to test myself and help spread my wings a bit after a difficult couple years.

“It seems like I’ve been afraid for most my life. I’ve been afraid of pain, afraid of loss, afraid of the unknown. I’m sure everyone can relate, but fear left completely unchecked can lead to disaster, which it did in my life.

“My dad passed away, unexpectedly, just before my thirtieth birthday in 2010. I was already pondering what 30 meant to me, and how I was doing in my life, and what life really meant. But adding the ponderings of mortality to that, and the desire to make sense of a tenuous relationship with a dead parent, I entered my thirties with more questions than answers. As years past, I talked at length with therapists in the most appropriate metaphor I could find; I was drowning. I was in rough seas, waiting for someone to throw a life jacket. I was slipping below the waves. I was under the water, holding the last gasp of air I could. I was four years old again, and I had fallen into the deep end of my neighbors pool. My sisters were there, but they hadn’t noticed me- hadn’t registered my cry for help in that split second before I sank below the surface of the water. I couldn’t swim, my arms and legs flailing seemed to make me sink faster. I remember seeing the legs of the other kids, playing and laughing in the pool. They hadn’t seen me, I was drowning, I was dying, I was completely alone. I was alone, looking up at the shimmering surface of the water, that beautiful barrier between life and death. One of my sisters appeared before I lost consciousness and dragged me to the pool deck. I coughed up, what seemed to be gallons of water, and cried. And 30 years later, I was drowning again, but no one would help me.

“Several years of seeking answers, and taking shortcuts, found me checked into detox, then rehab, for a myriad of physical and psychological issues. My wife of 11 years had had enough; she left and filed for divorce. My business, work, and networks had been run into the rocks. I was left with nothing I recognized.

“But between the doctors who cared for me, my church family who stood around me, and a newly realized faith in Jesus- I had, in essence, been pulled from the water to choke up everything I had swallowed. And so I began the process of coming back to life.

“Along the way of coming back to life, I was also coming back to faith. Along that path, God revealed himself in different ways at different times. At one point last year, I traveled to visit a particular kind of specialist to learn the technique of meditative prayer. During one of those meditative sessions, I had a vision of water. Big, dark, and empty. I was in the water… deep, 100 or so feet down, and as I looked around I could see nothing. No sea floor, no coral, so sea life. Nothing like I had seen in my many times scuba diving; I was in a vast emptiness. I could see shafts of lights filtered through the waves far up at the surface. I was reminded of sinking in that swimming pool, alone. I was reminded of years and years of depression and drug addiction and loneliness… that familiar metaphor of drowning. And I asked God why I was here, what He was showing me or telling me. And He said “I AM the water.” He was surrounding me, holding me in His omnipotent love. The water I had been afraid of and fought my entire life had been His presence.

“Part of my process is pushing myself, testing myself, understanding who I am and what I’m capable of. I’m afraid of physical pain, and running hurts me. I’ve injured my knees and ankles more times than I want to remember. But, it is nothing compared to opiate withdrawals… and God carried me through that. I run, and I pray that God would protect my legs from injury, and help me do my best to his glory. I’m afraid of water… I have been since my sister pulled me from that swimming pool at four years old. But I spend much of my time swimming, for 30 to 90 minutes face down in the water just imagining myself being held in God’s infinite love. Training is hard, harder than I ever thought it would be, but it’s nothing compared to death and divorce and recovery. Step by step, in faith and prayer, I’ve worked through the most difficult things in my life. I’m sure tomorrow’s race will be more of the same… joy, sorrow, pain, ecstasy, prayer, meditation, and stubbornness. God, in his goodness has given me reminders of Himself throughout this journey- that I’m not only racing to bring water to communities in Africa, but each gulp of life-giving water on my bike is His life in me, that as I swim I’m being held in His perfect love, and each dump of cool water over my head while I run is like a baptism through which I am reborn.