The Greatest Trip of My Life, pt. 1

Growing up in Upstate New York, one thing was crystal clear: there are four seasons—spring, summer, fall, and winter. Each season brings its own unique beauty and challenges. The changing of the seasons is a natural part of life, a cycle that repeats itself year after year. And just like the seasons of the year, in life's journey, we go through different seasons too - mountaintops, valleys, and everything in between.

Over the years, I've been fortunate to take many memorable trips with my family. Last year, we visited my wife's family and friends in the Philippines. It was a wonderful opportunity to enjoy delicious food and create lasting memories with loved ones. A few months after returning from that trip, my kids and I embarked on an adventure to Iceland. The stunning landscapes, from the majestic waterfalls to the otherworldly glaciers, left us in awe of nature's raw beauty. This year, we've already been on our first cruise and absolutely loved the experience - the endless activities, the delectable cuisine, and the chance to explore multiple destinations in one trip. And, of course, I can't forget one of my favorite hiking trips to Mount Baker in Washington State, where the breathtaking views made it an unforgettable experience. But none of these, as incredible as they were, was my greatest trip. The greatest trip of my life was a journey I took alone - a journey of self-discovery, faith, and resilience.

I had worked as a Pastor for thirty years, dedicating my life to serving others and sharing the message of God's love. As we emerged from the Covid pandemic, a time that tested us all in ways we never imagined, the denomination I'd served for three decades asked me to move. It was a difficult decision, but during this time, I felt called to resign and pursue ministry in a different way, following the path that I believed God was leading me on.

Just before I resigned, a devastating event shook our family. Someone ran a red light and T-boned my wife on the driver's side. The impact was severe, and the aftermath was heartbreaking. We're grateful that although my wife sustained injuries that still affect her today, she survived. It was a miracle, and we thanked God for his protection and mercy. But the challenges were far from over.

Within the first week after my resignation, I developed a radiating pain in my lower abdomen that worsened at night. The pain was so intense that it started waking me up, and I began losing sleep, getting only 2-3 hours per night. As the days went by and the pain intensified, I knew I needed to see a doctor. I remember pulling into my driveway one day and having to rest my head on the passenger seat because the pain was so severe that I could barely keep myself upright.

Being a typical male who avoids doctors, I made the mistake of consulting Dr. Google. I don't recommend this to anyone. While Dr. Google is very good at listing symptoms and associated diseases, it's like a buffet table ranging from a simple sprain to various types of cancer. As the pain kept me awake at night, lying in the dark, I began to think about all the possibilities Dr. Google had so graciously shared. That didn't help my sleep, stress, or anxiety levels. Suddenly, I had high blood pressure for the first time in my life.

I finally mustered up the courage to go to a medical clinic to get checked out. The initial examination found nothing wrong with me, but they ordered a sonogram of my lower abdomen just to be sure. About a week later, I received the results - I had a hernia and should see a surgeon. I made an appointment, but the surgeon couldn't see me for about a month. During that waiting period, my family noticed a change in my behavior. When we were in a store and my wife couldn't find me, my kids would say, "We can find him," and head straight to the pharmacy section because they knew I'd be looking for sleep aids or any type of vitamin or herb to calm me down. I must have tried them all, desperately seeking relief from the anxiety and sleeplessness that plagued me.

As time passed, voices in my head started whispering that all these things were happening because God was punishing me for resigning. It started as a faint whisper but grew in intensity as the days turned into weeks. My wife's car accident, my health problems—these thoughts were consuming me, eating away at my faith and my peace of mind.

One morning, I woke up to find water on the kitchen floor in front of the dishwasher. I cleaned it up and checked the dishwasher, and everything seemed okay. But a few days later, it happened again, and the water had gone under some of the cabinets this time. I cut a hole in the cabinet under the sink and found more water. It appeared that the drain was backing up into the dishwasher, so I called a plumber. They came and thought they'd found the problem. The dishwasher worked fine for a few days, but then more water appeared under the cabinets. The plumber came back and said it was all fixed. We went away for the weekend; I had turned off the water under the sink, but when we came home, there was water on the floor again. Uh, oh. Now I was getting worried.

Turns out, there had been a bad rainstorm and, we came to discover, water had come in from the foundation behind the kitchen cabinets. So, we now had another problem to deal with. The plumbers returned for a third time and said to call the appliance man because there's a valve that prevents water from flowing when it's not in use. I called, and they came and fixed that problem. However, I still had a foundation issue that needed to be addressed. On top of that, we began to see roaches—a lot of them—at night. I called pest control, and he said they were German cockroaches, which are challenging to get rid of. We emptied the kitchen, pantry, etc., and they sprayed, but it barely slowed the roaches down; it was an awful experience.

As if that wasn't enough, a hurricane came, and we were the only house on the street that got water inside. It came through the foundation again, but this time in our living room. We had to pull up a large portion of the floor and had no flood insurance. Ouch. This new financial burden was adding to the already overwhelming stress.

The voices in my head kept telling me it was my fault that all these things were happening to my family. They continued to grow in intensity, and so did my stress, anxiety, and blood pressure. I had never experienced so many things going wrong in my life before. It felt like I was being attacked from every angle, with no respite in sight.

And then, another blow. My daughter was singing in a cantata. I was sitting in the foyer when the double doors of the church sanctuary suddenly sprung open. The first thing I saw was someone being carried out. I recognized the boots as my daughter's. She had fainted, and when we put her on the ground, she was coming in and out of consciousness. We called 911 seeking help; she took a trip to the hospital and was fine. However, this was just another hammer pounding on a nail, another event that seemed to confirm the voices of condemnation in my head. The list of things that were happening just continued to grow.

Nighttime was the worst; once you lose sleep like I did for such a long time, you become weak mentally, physically, and emotionally. Satan had me right where he wanted me. If it were a physical fight, it would be like someone being on top of you, and they just keep pounding away relentlessly. If you allow guilt to grab you and grip you, Guilt then invites his sibling, Shame, to join him. Shame stands for Self-Hatred-At-My-Expense. That's when thoughts start coming, telling you to just give up, that it's all over. I had thoughts of giving up on life, of surrendering to the darkness that seemed to be closing in on me from all sides.

I had always felt I had an optimistic outlook. I had always loved the early morning hours, getting up before the sun came up, enjoying the peace and promise of a new day. But now, I didn't like it; I preferred the night, sometimes hoping the darkness wouldn't end. I was at such a low point in my life. I felt like I was lying in a coffin; the bottom half of the lid was closed, and the top half was on its way. If I were a light bulb on a dimmer switch, the lights had been dimming slowly until there was total darkness, no glimmer of hope or light to be found. In the midst of it all, I was praying and reading my Bible; I was wrestling with God but had not let go of Him. I knew people were praying for me, and I could feel their support, even if I couldn't always feel God's presence. God sent specific people to help me during this time. Before I resigned, a man named Scott showed up at our church and said he had been watching online for eight months during the pandemic. He would come by my house and call me, offering encouragement and support. When my wife was in a car accident, he dropped off a car for us to use, a tangible reminder of God's provision. I have a dear friend, Andre, who always called and encouraged me, speaking life and truth into my weary soul. My friend Rick would send me encouraging text messages, reminding me of God's faithfulness and love.

The day finally arrived when I went to see the surgeon for my hernia. He examined me and said, "You don't have a hernia." I was stunned. I asked him, "What is it then?" He said it was probably a tear. I asked about the ultrasound, and he said he didn't think much of them. I shared with him how I was a pastor and a little about what was happening to me. He put his hand on my shoulder and told me to forget what happened and that God was with me. Here is one verse he shared:

Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.

He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.

Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall;

but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint (Isaiah 40:28-31; NIV).

His nurse even came in to tell him he had a patient waiting, but he kept continued, even praying over me. I left his office feeling like God had spoken directly to me through this compassionate surgeon. Despite how tired or weak I was, in spite of the fact that the battle in my mind was still raging, I felt a glimmer of hope. Light began to flicker in my darkness, a small but steady flame that refused to be extinguished. Though still in a deep, dark valley, unsure when or how it would end, I now had a glimmer of hope to cling to. I knew that meeting with the doctor was in God's providence, a divine appointment orchestrated by a loving Father who had never left my side.

Whatever season of life you may find yourself in, whether you're on the mountaintop or in the valley, I would like to encourage you that God is there with you. He sees you, He knows you, and He loves you with a love stretching beyond the horizon of time itself.

One of the things I learned when I felt so helpless was that God had given me and you the power of Choice. In that dark valley, when everything seemed to be falling apart, I had to choose. So I did. I prayed and said, "Lord, even though I cannot see beyond the darkness, even though I don't understand why all of this is happening, I choose to put my trust in you. I choose to believe that you are good, that you are faithful, and that you have a plan and a purpose for my life." It wasn't easy, and it wasn't a one-time decision, but it was doable - a daily, moment-by-moment choice to trust in the God who had always been there for me, even when I couldn't feel His presence.

In part two, I will share what life was like living in the valley, the lessons I learned, and the hope that sustained me. Until then, remember to lean into a love-shaped life, a life anchored in the unfailing love of God. He is with you, He is for you, and He will never leave you nor forsake you.