G10

After the response to last week’s post, I was having a hard time figuring out what to follow up with. I landed on an idea to post about a fairly new group of friends that have not only changed my life, but also saved it. “G10” is a group of about 10 men that was put together at our church. I was introduced to them, and welcomed by them, about 10 years ago (remember, I’m old, so 10 years is fairly recent for me… and wow, that’s a lot of 10s!).

This whole “men’s group” thing was very new to me. I’ve never really been one to seek out a men’s bible study and seldom find myself wanting to be included in a boy’s night out. There have been a handful of times in my life where I was encouraged to seek therapy and all of those ended after one session. The latest attempt occurred shortly after my diagnosis and ended as all the others had… after the first appointment. With that kind of track record, I didn’t give myself much hope in this type of environment, but was strongly encouraged to give a try by a close friend at church, as well as by Amy.

Amy did have her fears about me being around a group of men of faith, not because they may change me, but because they may not. As you’ve probably discerned by now, I can be fairly opinionated. So it was common for me to head to our usual Saturday morning meetings with a kiss, “I love you,” and, “please don’t get us kicked out of church – I like it there.” I’m happy to say that hasn’t happened… yet.

It didn’t take long for my opinions came out and I was asking challenging questions. Never once have I felt like I offended this great group of guys. On the contrary, they always listen intently and try to steer me in the right direction. Most of the time I realize I’m the one who has headed off course (have I mentioned I’m one of the younger members of G10?). Even though I was so welcomed by the group, I was never comfortable asking for favors or prayers, always believing I could handle any problem that came my way on my own, until…

When my first symptoms appeared in October of 2022, I immediately tried to find answers. This started the countless visits to neurologists and what seemed like endless trips down the MRI tunnels (I should have bought a season pass!). I was never worried about a diagnosis until I landed in the office of a neurosurgeon who educated me on the possible benefits of ACDF surgery. I scheduled the surgery on the spot. Not realizing what I had gotten myself into, I thought it was a good idea to watch an ACDF surgery online – it was not, and I needed a change of underwear.

Telling others about my ailments or shortcomings is not one of my strengths. Unless there’s a significant amount of blood that I can’t hide, Amy seldom knows I’ve hurt myself, which happens often. A couple of weeks before the surgery, I found myself needing a little help getting mentally prepared. I will admit that I was more than a little scared.

The following Saturday I let the men of G10 know what I was facing. My life changed that morning when I learned how much these guys cared about me, loved me. I still don’t feel deserving of their love, but they were undeterred with their support, praying for me and letting me be less than bulletproof for once in my life.

As our meeting broke up, one of the men drew me aside and gave me a coin that refers to a poem. In the poem, the narrator dreams of walking along the beach with God. He sees scenes from his life and notices that there are footprints in the sand for each scene. Some scenes have two sets of footprints, but the difficult times have only one. The narrator questions God, telling him how he felt alone during the difficult times. God replies, “It was then that I carried you.” This great friend shared with me that he always carries a coin to remind himself that he’s not alone and he doesn’t have to carry all the burden by himself. To this day I carry that coin, along with a couple of extras to share. I never realized how much of a weight I was carrying until I let it go.

As I’ve detailed before, I got through that surgery and months of recovery, only to find that things weren’t getting any better. In fact, my symptoms were getting a little worse. Several months and doctor visits went by before I was referred to yet another neurologist who finally diagnosed me with Lou Gehrig’s disease. This became my big secret for many months to come. I wasn’t reading my coin. I was carrying the burden myself and asking Amy to do the same. I finally realized I couldn’t do it myself and took it to G10.

That morning was the most love I’ve ever experienced from anyone not named Amy. There was no hesitation in taking me under their wings and lifting me up. Encouraging me to share the burden as they prayed for a miracle. They were praying for me, again. That day my bulletproof vest came off and I actually leaned on others to help me. I can never repay the debt I owe these men. I only hope to grow up to be like them one day. It was still many months before I began telling others of my diagnosis, and more than a year before I started this blog. But I had begun to lighten my load and now know that I just can’t do it all on my own.

To wrap things up today, I’ve chosen to honor Roberta Flack and her beautiful voice, as she now sings with the angels. She passed away this week from ALS. Godspeed, Roberta.

…and a verse that reflects what G10 is continually doing for me is James 5:16.

As always, thank you for taking the time to read my ramblings. And a special thank you to the men of G10…I love you all.

God bless.

Coach