As many of you know, I am an engineer and have been blessed to oversee Operations in both chemical manufacturing and also the most amazing water utility organization. There is always a lot going on in these areas and you typically have responsibility for the most support staff in the organization, meaning lots of people and correspondingly tons of touch points. Almost without thinking about it, the focus becomes the work. Insidiously transactional. Many complex problems to solve and due to the 24/7 nature of operations, your work becomes inextricably woven into your personal life. The transactional nature of your approach permeates all you do. It is a bit of a fight to allow the human element to have its rightful, God honoring place in your daily life. It happens to varying extents with everyone I know in these types of roles.
It seems the moment I got this diagnosis all of that changed. Of course I retired promptly from a job I loved in order to protect my health and live my priorities. But what I have experienced in the last month has been amazing and insightful.
My eyes have been opened to a whole new community of people as I have immersed into the world of ALS support. I’ve also had several encounters with ALS patients and caregivers. Not one of these encounters has been transactional. It all begins with a check of how you are doing, where you are at and what you need. When you meet another ALS patient, regardless of their disease progression there is no transactional nature in the conversation. None of the stuff that blocks our care for each other. Just a pure and rich exchange from the heart. Sharing of contact information, how can I help you, can we get our caregivers to talk to support each other, what approaches are working for you and the like fill the conversation. It’s immediately real. It soothes the soul. God’s presence is undeniable.
While I would have never authored my story this way, I do look back and wish I fully embraced this perspective earlier in my life. Many of my approaches would have been far less transactional. We have had enormous support in this journey so far but it is the people who we are human with that show up when your doctor classifies you as “permanently disabled” or you get that dreaded diagnosis. If you are reading this, stop here and marinate in this concept. Take risks, because there is risk in relationship. Take the time to hear and see people. Share your heart. It will change your life and likely someone else’s.
I‘ve had several good days this week, I am inundated with caring support, and once again God is blessing me with resources, approvals and strategies on how to beat this disease. Each day is a step towards stability and a tighter grasp the victory I already have.
Lastly, as I speak about blessings, today is Lisa and my 33 year wedding anniversary. Aside from knowing God, she is the very best thing that has ever happened to me. She is a warrior for the Lord and myself in this journey and I couldn’t love and appreciate her more.