The story goes like this…

In high school, I was an all-star cross-country runner. I was easily the fastest guy not just on my team, but in our entire county. So going into my senior year the expectation was high that I would lead us to our first state championship. To my coach, my teammates, and most everyone at my school, I was a sure thing. But as the race took off, I got a terrible cramp in my left side. Something like that had never happened to me before, and it definitely slowed me down. I went from leading to the pack to the back of the pack in a matter of seconds. I passed my coach, who was screaming for me to get it together and pick up the pace. But it was too late; I was done. Just then I passed by my mom in bleachers. There she was, smiling from ear to ear and cheering me on as if I was still in the lead. After the race my mom found me in tears, sitting in an old dugout with my head in my hands. She reminded me that life was so much bigger than a race, that I finished well, and that she was proud of me. That one conversation shaped so much of who I am today. I was the recipient of positivity and encouragement in the midst of a failure, and that’s what I want to be for other people now. I try to always choose positivity first. I want to step in and lead others with love and encouragement before anything else. I think speaking life into people when they need it most is one of the best things we can do for each other.

The story goes like this…

I was a pre-pubescent 10^th grader, experiencing the new freedoms of a driver’s license. One day after school, I decided to grab a milkshake from Sonic before a meeting with my football coach. But this wasn’t just any milkshake. It was a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup Sonic Blast! So…. As I’m walking from the parking lot back towards the school, I cross paths with my Math teacher heading home for the evening. As she approaches I politely say “Have a good night.” She replies, “You too, see you tomorrow.” A few moments later, I heard a hopeful voice from behind me say, “Is that a milkshake?” I stop. I turn. The voice belonged to my math teacher. We are all alone on the sidewalk, about 15 steps away from each other. I reply, “Yes.” (a short pause) “May I have some?” No part of me wanted to share my milkshake with my weird obese Math teacher, but I figured it was a good investment since she would be grading my arithmetic for the next 7 months. So…. I say, “Sure.” As we walk towards each other, I look down at my milkshake and notice three very important details. 1. There was a straw. 2. There was a spoon. And 3. I hadn’t eaten much of it yet. So I figured she can use the spoon or the straw, and whichever one she chooses I’ll throw away. Perfect plan. I extend the milkshake, expecting her to take it from my hand; instead she neglects both the straw and the spoon and thrusts her entire hand into the cup and shovels out a heap of milkshake. I watch in horror as she tilts her head back and lets the milkshake ooze off of her bare hand into her mouth. She politely thanks me and walks away. I was in Shock. In the blink of an eye, my delicious token of 16 year old freedom had been ruined. I don’t think I had more than a couple bites of that milkshake…. I had no choice but to throw it away.

The story goes like this…

I was visiting my hometown for the weekend and had just arrived at a restaurant to meet my two childhood best friends for dinner. They’re chronically late, and so it wasn’t unusual for me to find myself waiting for them to arrive. After about ten minutes, it started to rain. As I made my way to the entrance, this really sweet guy who had been nearby on his phone held the door open so I could go in before him. And as I did, I was bombarded with camera flashes and shouts of “Surprise!” I couldn’t believe it! It was about a week before my birthday, and I never suspected that my hometown friends would have gathered together to celebrate. I stood in the doorway waiting for my eyes to adjust from the camera flashes and gave a genuine, “Oh my gosh, you guys!” But just as the last word came out of my mouth, my eyes adjusted, and I realized that I couldn’t find the faces of my best friends. In fact, I couldn’t find any face I recognized. I knew literally none of these people. And that’s when it dawned on my: it wasn’t my surprise. As it turns out, the surprise was supposed to be for the guy standing behind me who had politely stopped to hold the door for me in the rain. And how did I repay him? By stealing his surprise.

The story goes like this…

The first millennial babies came into the world in 1981, the year I was born. Ever since then I’ve been working overtime to figure myself out and how my story fits into the bigger story of what’s happening around me. So far, it’s been a blast. However, the “normal” categories of life have mostly evaded me. I’ve always sorta felt like a walking bundle of contradictions.