Regaining The Vision

Six months into being a custodian, my mood was particularly foul. My life wasn’t “fair” and I didn’t see any hope for my future. I didn’t “see” the path ahead of me. As far as I knew, I would be cleaning classrooms for the rest of my life. My attitude was as nasty as the toilets on the 400 hall.

I had lost my vision. And my dream was in peril.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. It was the Friday before I heard the sermon on the Parable of the Talents. I had an epiphany and realized I was burying my talent. The next Monday I walked into the school with a smile on my face and began drawing everything I could draw.

I love to tell that story when I speak. It was a prime example of how a “worst” moment turned into a best. Things began to happen quickly. My co-worker Maggie set me up with her daughter. And I ended up having the four best moments because of it — seeing her blue eyes look at me as she walked down the aisle and seeing my three boys (with those same blue eyes being born.) I had to go work at Pope High School. And I now look back on that year as one of the best of my life. I still keep up with many of the teachers from that year. It was a special place full of special people.

Yesterday, I felt like I had lost my vision once again. Granted, I am not a custodian now — but I had that same moment of doubt. My dad is not well. My mom doesn’t feel well either. My career is stronger than ever, but I just felt like I had hit some kind of wall and lost control. Fatigue was whispering lies in my ear. Worry crept into my head. I just wanted to give up.

This morning, at 3:54, my alarm went off. The covers were warm. I was exhausted. The bed was inviting. Even Pip didn’t stir. I opened one blurry eye and looked at the clock. 3:55. I so wanted to roll back over.

But I didn’t. My feet swung around and hit the cold, wood floor. I went and did my morning workout. I was lifted up by my friends. My coaches inspired me. I pushed forward into my day. The worry that had crippled me yesterday faded. Fatigue backed away from my ear. Its lies stopped. Hope began to return.

In 1992, I used my talent to change my life. As I worked out this morning, I realized that it was time to dust off my old strategy. You will see that here. More drawings. More writing. More fun.

My family will see it, too. I will love more and worry less. I will be a better dad and husband.

Yes, the future worries me. But that doesn’t have to be my future. I have the power to make a better one for my family.

And the time is now.