don’t lose your cool – Page 5

April 25, 2019July 7, 2019

It’s Not Just About You (Part 2 of 2)

The guy in the back with the dorky pose…don’t know him

The sun came out for our second day on the whitewater. The rain and gloom had passed, and we were all much more relaxed now that we had survived the first day of paddling. The mood lifted once the gray skies, drizzle, and apprehension gave way to sunshine and confidence.

As far as the water level, this was a perfect scenario; it was an April weekend that followed a large amount of rainfall in New York’s Adirondack Mountains, but the warmer temperatures and rain helped melt a lot of the snow, which also ran into the river. The result was a river so swollen with churning whitewater that even many of the local guides had never seen it quite this big.

Our second day was a little different from the first. This time we linked up with one of the local outfits that knew the river pretty well, and we stuck close to them for a collective “safety in numbers” advantage. Laura was still our raft’s captain, and I was still paired with her to project the voice commands a bit further, but we rotated some of the paddlers around between boats.

In the afternoon, the local boat was in front of us, and then the next two rafts were ours. As we came around a sharp bend in the river, all the color drained from our faces. Spanning two thirds of the river was a gigantic standing wave that had a nasty rip curl at the top. It was a freak river feature that could only occur when extreme amounts of water shot through that section of the waterway. The guides didn’t know it was there, and none of us out-of-towners expected to see anything like it.

The local boat saw it too late, and all they could do was try to paddle through it head-on. It was too much for them; the boat got flipped right away and everybody got dumped in the chilly water. The rest of us paddled for all we were worth to get to the safer route. We safely made it past the wave, then surveyed the damage. Since we were the first boat on the scene, we made for the biggest group of helmets bobbing in the water. We started grabbing people by the life jackets and pulling them aboard. The raft behind us picked up the guide, but we got everyone else. Our kayakers started buzzing around the area picking up dropped paddles, disposable waterproof cameras, and even somebody’s bottle of Coke.

We were very near the capsized raft at that point. I thought back to all the raft-flipping I’d done in the pool during the dull winter months. I must’ve flipped a capsized raft at least 50 times in the pool. All that training was perfect for a moment like this; if I couldn’t use that knowledge and experience now, what was the point of doing it at all? I wanted to go after it…

I actually put my foot up on the rim of the raft to jump into the water. I turned back to tell Laura I was about to go after the raft, but that’s when I realized the state of complete disaster our own raft was in. It was pandemonium. Our raft was meant for eight people, but we only put six of us in it at the start of the day. Now our raft was bogged down with 14 people, only half of which had a paddle. Our raft was a self-bailer, meaning it had holes in the bottom so water that splashed in would drain out on its own. Instead of the normal inch or two of water on the floor, now it was midway up our calves. We were still flying down the river, but we were largely at the mercy of the current, headed towards God-only-knows what kind of waves, whirlpools, or strainers, and nobody knew the plan to meet up with the other rafts.

The people we just picked up were understandably chattering away about what just happened. They loudly thanked us for plucking them from the water, but all their excitement started causing a major communication breakdown for our crew and all we wanted was for them to stop talking! Laura’s tiny voice was yelling, trying to establish some sense of order, but it wasn’t doing much to get through to the newcomers. I was paired with her exactly for the purpose of echoing her commands loud enough for everyone to hear. I wanted so badly to go after the flipped raft, but it would’ve meant leaving them in an even more chaotic situation.

I turned my back on the capsized raft and started echoing Laura’s commands in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. Our guests quieted down and our crewmembers in the front of the raft, no longer distracted by excited yammering in their ears, were able to hear us and start pointing us in the right direction. Everyone with a paddle dug just about as hard as they could, and we sluggishly moved out of the main current into the calmer waters near the riverbank. In the middle of it all, our trip leader, Tim, paddled his kayak up to the flipped raft and jumped on. I was pretty distracted with the situation in our raft, but the last I saw of him, he was laying on the raft with a big grin, paddling hard and looking like he was having the time of his life. (I know you’ll read this at some point, Tim…you beat me to it!) Anyway, it took awhile, but we eventually gathered all three rafts to reunite the guide and crew with their boat.

It was an adventure, for sure. In the moment, it was absolutely crazy and scary, but even now, more than 15 years later, I bet everyone on our trip remembers that portion of it. The trip had so many fun details that I had to journal about the experience (which is where I looked for a refresher)!

I can’t even tell you how much time I spent practicing how to right a capsized raft while in the pool at college. Most of it was done just for fun, but each time I did it, it helped contribute to the overall muscle memory and cementing the automatic steps that would need to occur when a raft actually flipped over on the river. What better time to use this experience could there possibly be than this opportunity?

Here’s the crux of it all though: just because you’ve focused so much time and effort into training or preparing for a specific type of ministry or situation that you ignore things that are “outside your lane” when God drops them in your path. To truly be a player on God’s team, you need to be willing to do what needs to be done, whatever that may be. Even if you haven’t prepared for a given scenario, He’ll make sure you’re equipped with everything you need when He presents a new challenge to you. The only thing you might be missing is a willing heart, and that’s something only you have the power to control.

March 18, 2019March 25, 2019

Hanging on by a Thread (Part 1 of 3)

Read Part 2 or Part 3

For Christmas 2014 we visited my wife’s folks in northwestern Ohio. Instead of going straight there from Virginia, we drove to see some family near Dayton first. The kids had lots of fun playing with cousins, staying up later than usual, and generally wearing themselves (and us) out. At the end of that visit, we drove about two and a half hours to my in-laws’ place.

I think it was the afternoon of the 26^th or 27^th; I was worn out. There were two Christmas celebrations with two different sides of the family, but my young family had to skip one of them because the kids were worn out, sick, or getting sick. My oldest actually developed an ear infection, so we spent some time in an Urgent Care because of the pain she was in. I was beat, so I was laying on the living room floor, starting to fall asleep.

There were people moving around. My father-in-law, Lee, took a moment to sit down on the couch, put his feet up, and close his eyes. My wife and her mom Pam were moving around the area, working on a few other things as I drifted off.

Then I heard my wife’s worried tone. I don’t remember much of what she was saying, but she was urgently trying to soothe Lee. Pam came rushing over, too, and then there were two worried tones. I opened my eyes to see what was happening, and Lee, still reclining on the couch, looked like he was having a seizure.

I got up and ran over. He was unresponsive, his eyes were fluttering, and his body was spasming. I tried picking him up to lower him to the ground…no easy task when someone’s body goes completely rigid. I laid him flat on the ground, and my CPR training from nearly 20 years prior came rushing back. I checked for breathing, but there didn’t seem like there was any. I retilted his head to try opening his airway, but still nothing. I forgot to do a finger sweep to see if there was anything in his mouth, which ended up causing some complications later. I began doing rescue breathing on my father-in-law.

Finding a pulse can be a tricky thing. When I learned CPR on dummies, we didn’t use the kind that simulated pulses. As a result, we did a pulse check knowing full well there wasn’t going to be one. I tried his neck, I tried his wrist, and I tried his chest. I couldn’t find anything, so by all counts I should have begun doing CPR, but I doubted myself. I thought “well this might be a faint one right here.” In my mind it’s a scary thing to begin chest compressions, because that means someone’s in REAL trouble. I ended up not doing any compressions because I wasn’t thinking objectively; I hadn’t thought about any of this in years and I was scared of messing up.

Somewhere in this sequence we called an ambulance. Thankfully, there was a volunteer fire station not two blocks away, so they arrived very quickly. That time we spent waiting for them seemed like it took forever, though. Between trying to find a pulse, rescue breathing, trying to shoo the kids out of the room, and all the confusion going on, it was chaos. My youngest, who was a little older than a year at the time, crawled over Lee’s legs, cheerfully unaware that anything was wrong, before we got the kids wrangled up.

Once the EMTs arrived I happily yielded to someone who knew a lot more about what to do in this situation. Almost right away after evaluating the situation, they wrapped some kind of band around Lee’s chest, and it began doing chest compressions on its own. We filled in some of the volunteers on what happened, what kind of meds Lee took, etc., all while the EMTs worked on him. It seemed to take awhile, but eventually they prepared to load him into the ambulance. As they were busily moving about, I asked one of them “do we have a pulse?” I was very glad to hear “we do, but it’s weak.”

They loaded Lee into the ambulance, and off they went. I drove Pam to the hospital, chasing right behind. The trip was a short one, thankfully. We went into the ER and eventually met up with the doc on duty, and we told him what we knew. A flurry of phone calls, conversations with doctors, and newly arriving friends of the family followed. This particular hospital wasn’t well equipped to deal with this situation, so they prepared to transfer Lee via helicopter to a larger hospital in Toledo about an hour away by car. Shortly before the helicopter departed, the staff invited a few of us back to where Lee was being prepped for the trip. He was intubated, had IVs and heart monitors in place, and was still unconscious. This was Pam’s opportunity to see Lee one more time before splitting up to travel separately.

After a few moments, we left the ER. Some friends of the family volunteered to drive Pam up to the hospital in Toledo. We went back to the house and got a few things packed for Pam. My wife, deeply concerned about her father, wanted to go along too, so she got ready to leave. In a whirlwind they grabbed a few items and headed out. Once they departed, I was left there with my three young kiddos, just the four of us, in a house that suddenly seemed very quiet, and we didn’t know how long it would be before anyone came back.

Looking back, I didn’t do any chest compressions on Lee even though I probably should have. No, I hadn’t had any refresher training in a long time, but I knew what was next in the sequence. The reason I didn’t do it was because I was so scared of making the wrong decision (starting chest compressions when there was no need to do them) that I ended up making no decision. On the other hand, enough training came back to me to be able to help Lee in the immediate situation until more skilled people arrived. Ultimately the EMTs and volunteers’ speedy arrival was crucial in Lee living long enough to open his eyes again, but for the next few days we weren’t sure if that was going to happen.

You have to train now for things that will happen in the future. By the time you get there and need the knowledge, it will be too late to learn something and start new habits. I’m not talking strictly in the sense of emergency response, but for difficult and trying times in general. They’re coming. How do you react when things go sideways? What are you spending your time thinking about, moving toward, and taking steps to become? When hard times come, do you dig harder into devotions and prayer, or stop doing them altogether? If your track record is to be considered your training regimen, have you been training yourself to turn to God, or away from him?

Lee’s chances of survival were dropping the longer I hesitated. Even though I knew what I should be gearing up to do, I didn’t start doing it because I wasn’t confident about his pulse. The things you’ve spent time repeating, drilling into yourself, come back to you though, and you can draw on them when you need them. What do you do repetitively and regularly today in order to prepare yourself for when you’ll need it in the future?

Read Part 2 or Part 3

Find out what happens next; subscribe by entering your email address above. DareGreatlyNow is published on Monday and Thursday mornings.

February 21, 2019March 3, 2019

Refuse To Be Left Behind

I’m gonna skip ahead a little bit on our Olympic adventure.

My buddy and I woke up at a rest stop on our first day in Utah after snoozing in sleeping bags in the car. Our breath had condensed and frozen on the windows overnight. We were only about an hour away from Salt Lake City. After all the driving of the past two days, we were excited to be so close, so we got ready for the day and headed out.

Our breath condensed and froze on the car’s windows overnight

Just arriving in the area was thrilling. Olympic signs and venues were all over the place. Ski jumps, the Olympic rings, extra decorations, it was great. As we drove on the highway through the city, a lot of the buildings were decorated with massive posters of winter sports. We drove into the city, parked, and walked around downtown, happy to be done driving long distances for a bit. The weather was gorgeous; sunny and warm. We saw the Mormon Temple, some of the other local sights, got some donuts, and toured the State Capitol, where there was a traveling exhibit of the Declaration of Independence.

We were super excited to finally be at our destination, but we still had to figure out where we were going to sleep that night. A little after noon we drove out of the city and toward some public land. As it turns out, the public land in that area is much higher in elevation. Added elevation brings lower temperatures and more snow.

As we drew near the place we intended to camp, we stopped at a ranger station to get some more info. Following their directions, we drove until reaching the end of the line; past a certain point they stopped plowing the road. Snowmobiles were all over the place. The only other way in was on foot.

My buddy parked the car in the parking lot and the two of us broke out our cross-country skis. Between the weather and the time of day, visibility was starting to drop and it was going to start getting dark soon. We needed to find a campsite quickly, and we didn’t have time to be too choosy about what spot to use. The two of us skied in, found a spot, then skied back out to the car to grab our gear. We were both decent skiers at the time, but neither of us had ever skied with heavy packs before. They throw off your balance and make it much trickier!

We returned to our site and stomped down the snow to make a spot for the tent. We set up the tent, broke out the stove, and started heating up dinner while unpacking and arranging the rest of our gear for the night. Between not having much to do after dark and still being accustomed to East Coast time, we cracked open and tossed some footwarmers into the sleeping bags and were in for the night a little after 7:30 pm.

Just as a refresher, up until this point in my life the only other time I remember sleeping outside was in a tent in a neighbor’s backyard in the summer as a kid. Now I’m sleeping in a tent in the Wasatch Mountains in February as the snow/sleet falls around us. After sleeping in a car for the past two nights, it was a nice change to be able to stretch out all the way. I slept pretty well until the coyotes started howling later at night. For anyone accustomed to hearing them, you know that there’s nothing to worry about, but if you’re not used to them, you start wondering just how long it will take for a determined coyote to rip through a flimsy tent.

I’d be lying if I told you that I wasn’t afraid of doing what we were doing. It’s one thing to talk like you’re going to do something that stretches you, but it’s something else entirely to do it. Driving from New York to Utah is an adventure in itself, but at least during that whole time, you’ve got a car…with heat, a roof, and a trunk full of stuff. Now we had a tent, sleeping bags, and whatever we could carry in our packs, and we set up camp in a spot that, for all we knew, was at the bottom of a mountain that was ready to trigger an avalanche. And it was snowing.

Why on earth would I do this?

I was willing to do it because this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. I refused to be left behind. I was in college with few or no other responsibilities, the Winter Olympics were happening in my country, I had the opportunity to go see them, and I had a friend that was willing to do the same crazy thing. In the 17 years since that trip, no similar opportunity has come around again for me.

For just a moment, think about your life and the choices you regret. Often the things that come to mind first are the things you did not do. For everyone, even Christ-followers, there are things you wish you would’ve done differently. Think about the choices that lie before you now, or that you’ll have to address soon. One day you might pause to reflect on them, too. At different times in our lives, everyone’s got a “thing,” an idea that nags at them even when they try to shake it. Many times this is God’s nudge, saying “hey, I want you to do this.” You probably don’t know what will happen if you do it. Maybe you do. Some day you might be in Heaven, talking face to face with the creator of the universe. “Remember when I prompted you to do that thing?” If you have regrets about not doing something now, imagine what it will be like then.

Don’t feel bad about being scared; everybody’s scared of something. Letting fear stop you from doing or being a part of big things is where you start missing out. Don’t let a fear of being fearful paralyze you and prevent you from taking the next step that God’s called you to take.

Refuse to be left behind.

Never miss a post! Subscribe in the margin above and have every edition of DareGreatlyNow sent to your inbox!

October 25, 2018December 27, 2023

Go Back to What You Were Taught

A couple of guys during lifeguard training

At age 15, I started lifeguard classes. The group of us lifeguard trainees had an instructor named Linda. Linda was our teacher for everything from lap swimming to academics, first aid and CPR to practicing hands-on rescue techniques in the pool. There was an enormous amount of material to learn, and she was a very hard instructor. During the course, she learned the weaknesses of all the students in the course, and she would ask us the questions she knew we’d have difficulty answering, both as individuals and as a group.

That was a very strange summer; one of the students was a pastor, and he had a pretty busy schedule. My family took a vacation outside the country for a few weeks, and I also attended a youth convention in Colorado. There were a few other scheduling conflicts too, if I recall correctly. As a result, our training schedule was pretty chaotic and wildly inconsistent. Whenever we convened for our first class in awhile, we had to review what we had learned up until that point. We had to practice the first aid and CPR skills once again. We had to get back in the pool and return to our habit of lap-swimming. All of those “first-in-a-long-time” classes provided opportunities for us to demonstrate how much we forgot or didn’t know.

During the reviews, and then during the regular classes, Linda would pose questions in ways that made you question what you thought you knew about the material. You’d go to blurt out an answer because you thought it was an easy question, but she asked it in a way that made you second-guess yourself. As time went on, though, the material became ingrained in our minds and in our muscle memory. We became confident in our knowledge and our actions, and we were able to face increasingly complex challenges.

Linda was a hard instructor, yes, but if I had the choice to go back and do it differently, I would not. I believe that the lessons Linda taught saved lives, and I’m sure that people retained the skills she taught them very well because of the way she did it. I’ll write more about it in a later post, but almost 20 years after I first learned these skills from Linda, long after my certifications had expired, I found myself in a situation where someone’s life depended on me remembering what I learned in those courses. My most recent refresher classes were with a different instructor, but when I needed the knowledge the most, I didn’t think of my most recent refreshers, I thought back to Linda’s instruction. The teachings came flooding back to me, exactly when I needed them urgently, and it’s my belief that I thought of her teaching rather than others’ because of the fervor, the absolute intensity with which the knowledge was drilled into my head, which was a hallmark of Linda’s courses.

If you are a Christian, you have been filled with the Holy Spirit, and are now capable of doing things that you cannot accomplish on your own. You have been commissioned by God to do great things. You can have an impact on an international level if you let Him use you. But as you press on with, or as you begin, this journey, don’t forget the basics. Study God’s word with fervor. Learn from a trustworthy teacher. As you go through your Christian life, you will encounter things that are lies, that are deceptions, and that are downright dangerous. When you find yourself in those situations, your response will come from the training you’ve had and the instruction you’ve received. Reputable Bible teachers, wise and trusted Christian friends, preachers and authors will all have an influence on the way you think and the way you perceive things. In the course of doing great things, don’t neglect these disciplines. You have to remember though, that if you want the answers to be there when you need them most urgently, you have to put in the time up front.

If it’s not your regular practice, dare greatly by cracking open your Bible and by praying to God about what’s on your mind. You might need to get your spiritual house in order before you move on to amazing things.