Pep Talk: "When Facing The Unimaginable"

Sometimes a trip down memory lane can be quite conflicting.

The other day your knucklehead scribe offered a ride to an A Stronger Cord stalwart. The father of two beautiful daughters needed to get to Greeley, Colorado (about 45 minutes north of Denver) for a legal meeting.

Being an old television sportscaster, as we drove into the city’s southern limits, temptation ruled. The story of FIDO was shared. It’s an example frequently offered  in consulting work with groups or individuals challenged with letting go of the past. It’s the story of a long ago Denver Broncos’ football team. It was back in the early 90’s. Despite having future Hall-of-Famer John Elway at quarterback and other talented stars, the year before, the Dan Reeves-coached team had underachieved.

Back then the Broncos held summer camp in Greeley, home to the University of Northern Colorado. It was the first day of camp the next year. The Broncos were trying to comeback from disappointment. As a sports guy for KCNC-TV, I was covering the team and stationed outside the dining hall early on the morning of the first practice. Every player, coach and staff member, who sleepily walked into the chow hall, had on the front of their t-shirts, in bold letters, this statement: F-I-D-O. It became the focus of my report that morning. Upon inquiry, it was discovered, Coach Reeves, at a team meeting the night before had issued the t-shirts, which signified, about the previous season’s disappointment, “Forget It, Drive On!”

My buddy enjoyed the story, was delivered to his appointment and then I turned right around and drove back to Denver. The return trip sparked a reflection concerning recent experiences making the “FIDO” creed quite difficult to embrace.

Like, a wonderful workout and golfing buddy and his former wife burying their 27-year-old son after the young man’s unexpected death. The vision of a “brother from another mother” grabbing a shovel and beginning the Jewish burial tradition of, once the casket is lowered into the ground, pouring dirt on the casket. Wow. It’s something I’ll never forget. How do parents “Forget it and drive on” from such grief?

Or, how does a dear friend and spiritual warrior, wife and six kids, “Forget it and drive on” as he continues to fight cancer? It has spread throughout his body and is clearly winning right now. This stud of a man still shows up on Fridays for Bible study, speaks through a voice box and acts like nothing’s wrong? Really? It’s sure easy to talk about forgetting and driving on when the going gets tough. The major question becomes, can we LIVE IT? How?

While driving home contemplation landed on this: Faith in FIDO can be fickle. However, ultimately it is necessary. There are certainly moments of great suffering when “forgetting it and driving on” seems impossible. In grief, when facing the unimaginable,  all we can do is pray for emotional and physical healing we can’t see or even imagine.