Pep Talk: "No Double Trouble"

Confession time. I suck when it comes to losing sunglasses. By which I mean I’m really good at losing them.

Pursuing the whereabouts of the latest pair took me into a nearby watering hole, World of Beer. Love the place. Anyway, it’s opening Sunday of the NFL season, so there’s a zillion games on a zillion televisions. No sunglasses. Bartender offers empathy.

“Might as well stay, watch some games and have a beer.” It took about a nanosecond to agree.

So while sitting there watching the Bengals lead the Bears in Chicago, Titans topping the Steelers in Pittsburgh, Chiefs dominating the Jags in Jacksonville and all the other games, my mind wandered to what coaches say so often after a devastating defeat.

“We can’t let this beat us twice.”

Yep. It’s what coaches talk about all the time. After losing a game in disappointing circumstances - the Denver Broncos loss to Baltimore in last year’s AFC playoffs - it’s imperative for the jolted team to not allow the hangover to deeply affect future performance. Despite recognition of the challenge, it happens often, despite best efforts to avoid it.

I think what sparked the “We can’t let this beat us twice” thought process was a couple of personal issues banging around in my noggin’ on a warm mid-September Centennial State Sunday.

Life throws curveballs. The journey’s a roller coaster for sure, ain’t it? I find it fascinating to be in public places, look around at others and wonder, “What’s their story? What’s going on in their life?” We all have challenges. They come in a variety of shapes, sizes and volume but are usually in one of three areas: physical, emotional or financial.

For me, the two above-referenced brain cramps centered on the emotional side of dealing with a tragic family illness and a teenage child’s growing maturation.

The stuff life brings our way, at the most inopportune times. Quite often, whatever ails us can spread its emotional toll to other important areas of our world - home, work and elsewhere.

We must try like heck to not let that happen. That gets us back to the “We can’t let this beat us twice.”

As much as possible, avoid the domino effect. You know what I’m talking about. We’ve all stacked up dominos and then pushed just one. What happens next rarely fails to marvel all experiencing the avalanche of fallen tiles.

Could it be true about life as well? Whether the challenge before us is physical, emotional or financial, if we allow it to spill into other meaningful and important areas and relationships, could that only make it worse?

Collateral Damage?

When military strategists meet and ponder attacking someone, the topic of collateral damage, we would hope, is always discussed. For instance, the discussion around bombing Syria as punishment for the deplorable act of using chemical weapons to kill innocent civilians. In all accounts I’ve read, one of the challenges is that the bad guys America wants to eradicate have hunkered down in Syrian areas of folks just minding their business and trying to survive.

The collateral damage to destroy the bad guys would be enormous considering their location.

The one beer was complete. No game had changed dramatically, except in Buffalo where the Patriots had rallied to win. I walked into the bright Colorado sunshine, squinting mightily without those darn sunglasses, to head for home with a powerful reminder about collateral damage.

Stuff’s gonna happen in life. It will rattle us to the core. Obviously, we have to deal with it. In doing so, we also need to shelter surrounding areas from the storm.

Don’t let it beat you twice. Limit the collateral damage. Avoid the domino effect. Call it what you like. Very simple to say and affirm. Very challenging to embrace when the challenges hit and threaten our world.

Look around and realize you’re not alone. Don’t be afraid to be vulnerable and ask for encouragement. We’re here to give each other hope and confidence.

To prevail against what ails, we can’t let it beat us twice. No double trouble.

Nobody needs to heed that advice more than the simple dude from Missouri offering it.

Good luck!

Pep Talk: "The Possibility Pool"

Meeting with a bunch of knuckleheads has once again rattled my brain. Here goes.

First, a little background. Each Friday, when not traveling, I attend what I would call a team meeting inside an office just across the street from a nice golf course in Aurora, Colorado. We call it the Platoon. It’s a bunch of dudes from all walks of life coming together to challenge one another to grow in faith.

We gather for a little more than an hour, bust each other’s chops constantly, while still cajoling, comforting and challenging one another to let it be.

Recently the topic was courage. We were studying the Bible, where in Genesis, Abraham is being tested by God. History says the father of the Jewish faith was 100 years old when siring a kid. Impressive. But now God’s telling the surprised but elated father to sacrifice this son, Isaac. Abraham, with great struggle, obeyed God. Is that courage, or stupidity? 

That leap of faith paid off handsomely, as God spared Abraham’s son and bestowed many wonderful things upon him and his descendants down the road. The point for us to think about was this: when is it time to leap into the great unknown with that kind of faith? In a room full of guys, it’s real easy to discuss and affirm. But outside the sanctuary of that room, realities of life smack us in the face. Life often takes great courage.

Before the meeting began I had met a visitor. First time he had ever attended our weekly Platoon gathering. “What brought you here?” I inquired over the din of about five separate conversations pulsating through the room. It’s the usual routine as we warm up in anticipation of challenging one another to become superior to our former selves, when it comes to our faith.

“I’m with him,” stated the bespectacled man, nodding and grinning toward a good buddy sitting on my other side. “Dang,” I countered. “You need some new friends.” We laughed about that and then dove into his history a little. A Colorado native, the man’s descendants settled in northeastern Colorado almost 150 years ago.

Those were crazy times in the history of the Centennial State. More and more white settlers were journeying west into the lands of America’s Native Americans. Battles were frequent.

“My great-great Grandpa headed west when he was 14-years-old.” He then sealed the deal with, “I can’t imagine that.”

Courage. Defined as, “the ability to have bravery conquer fear when facing uncertainty.” It seems we’re constantly playing that game, aren’t we? Courage versus fear? Go for it, or not? What are the pros and cons? It’s a constant dialogue we have with ourselves and others.

Sitting there my brain zips to the men I’m blessed to lead Thursday mornings at the Denver Rescue Mission. We joke at the beginning of our 30 minutes together, “Who planned on being at the Denver Rescue Mission on  - fill in the blank - this date?” Nobody raises his hand. We then agree that, “Hey, here we are. Let’s make the best of it and try like heck to achieve goals and overcome challenges to prevail against what ails us, emotionally, physically and spiritually.”

We talk for 30 minutes about how it will take great courage to change. We encourage one another that, “Yes, we can!” Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

Later I recall - my mind wanders occasionally - a hand-written letter from Bud Lathrop, my high school basketball coach. One of my great mentors had sent a congratulatory note about an upcoming event and mentioned in the message, another fellow honoree, “Coach Craddock and I came to Raytown South in 1961. We were the first two coaches hired. The school didn’t even have a gym.”

Courage. It’s required to take that big leap of faith into the great unknown with wonderment as our guiding light. Whether it’s one of the great figures of faith, a teenager heading toward our nation’s developing and dangerous western frontier, two great coaches leaving others job to start a new school, men trying to get off the streets, or you and me. 

The players on stage differ greatly, but all share one thing in common: the necessity to muster the strength to leap off the high dive and into the possibilities pool when we’re called.

One of the long-time members of the group has that challenge before him. Along with his wonderful wife, he’s pondering expanding the family by welcoming two girls, sisters, into their home. The girls have been in foster care after losing their parents in a murder/suicide a few years back.

Courage. It’s required to win the battle over fear about finances, family dynamics and room for two more active kids.

What about you? Me? As I like to ask in live Pep Talk presentations, when is it time to “Run to Daylight?”

Whenever it might be, good luck. Go ahead. Jump into the possibility pool!

Pep Talk: "Life's Turbulence"

“In recent months I’ve lost my father, my 11-year-old daughter and a marriage.”

The news delivered at Denver’s Avenue Theatre during intermission of an event focused on dealing effectively with loss and adversity made my heart sink to my toes.

Turbulence.

I placed a hand on each shoulder to try to comfort a grieving human. “My father committed suicide. My daughter suffered a fatal stroke. A struggling marriage ran out of gas.”

Turbulence.

Many had gathered on this evening to hear testimonials from others dealing with tragedy. An incredibly brave and vulnerable Doug Vincent, accompanied by musician Sam Llanas, delivered the powerful A Day for Grace performance. Before a sellout crowd, it headlined an emotional program I was honored to host.

The weekly thoughts offered in this space often attempt to address life’s unpredictable nature. Those moments in time that leave us perplexed at its sometimes cruelty.

Why? Why did - fill in the blank - happen to me? Or to a loved one?

Just hours after this random encounter with a grieving man, I had gone to Facebook crying out for prayers for a woman near and dear to my heart who was critically ill. A mother, wife, sister, friend and vibrant spirit. On the precipice between life and death far too early. Far too young.

Turbulence.

The fragility of life. The reminder that all we really have, despite our exhaustive, exhilarating and extensive planning, is right here, right now.

It reminds me of what another man told me many years ago. Something I’ll never forget.   “Yesterday is history. Tomorrow’s but a mystery. Today is a gift. That’s why it’s called the present.”

Don’t waste a nanosecond on the past and its pain. Forgiveness of self and others must enrich the soil of our futures if we desire to grow and prosper. It’s real easy to write such stuff and to speak of it. Reality warns us that it’s far more difficult to execute. Simple, not easy.

For each and everyone of you dealing with life threatening, life taking, life changing moments in time, please know there are many folks in this world who want to comfort you. Wrap you in their arms. Pray you muster strength for a pending rollercoaster journey and its unknown, unwanted twists and dips.

Turbulence. It’s defined as “violent disorder or commotion.” It arrives via airplane travel, physical ailments, emotional heartache and financial setbacks. Rarely does the first have a lasting effect. It’s temporary and usually requires us to simply tighten the lap belt and remain seated. This too shall pass.

But then the haymakers suddenly appear. The powerful left hook that threatens to knock us out. Violent disorder and commotion. It rocks our world. Pierces our souls with daggers of despair. 

Forgive. Address. Unite.

Cherish each day. Each moment. Each breath.

Don’t put off until tomorrow what should be done today.

Never has a Pep Talk been of such rambling thoughts. It was produced from a grieving heart. We all have been there, are there, will be there.

Let’s try like heck to shelter one another as best we can from the storm. Life’s turbulence. It can get real bumpy. It can be very sad. It can be very tragic. It can threaten to overwhelm us.

It is at these times we need each other the most.