- Oct 15, 2017
- 2
- 4
- Country
- United States
- Gender
- Male
- Faith
- Baptist
- Marital Status
- Private
I used to be a "weather geek." I was always staying informed on severe weather, keeping my friends and loved ones current on dangerous weather that was headed their way. I even got my Technician Class Amateur Radio License as a requirement for doing emergency communications work at the local National Weather Service office. It's the only reason I got the license in the first place. I enjoyed it because I felt as though what I was doing actually mattered, and contributed to the greater good. In addition, I learned about the science of Meteorology, studying the forecast models, learning how to read the scientific values and translate them into a valid forecast. I also learned how to be an Advanced-Level National Weather Service Certified Severe Storm Spotter to help protect my community. I really enjoyed this activity.
Then, Leukemia happened.
Now, I barely follow the weather anymore.
I've been an avid fan of Alabama football for as long as I can remember. I never missed a Bama game on TV if I could help it. I've even been privileged to have watched a game on the sidelines with the team, gone to the locker room with the team after the game, and been to spring practice with the team on Media Day, all at Bryant-Denny Stadium. Coach Gene Stallings and I were the last two people to leave the field at Bryant-Denny Stadium that day at spring practice, as he talked with me about where I was from. It doesn't get any better for a Bama fan. I have PROUDLY bled Crimson for years. Orange and Blue is NOT in my veins.
I haven't even seen a Bama game on TV this year, let alone been back to BDS.
All because Leukemia happened.
I just had my 16th anniversary as a Corrections Officer. When I started this job, I felt as though what I was doing really meant something. I felt like what I did for my living really did matter. I felt like I actually made a difference in the lives of those with whom I had contact, both the detainees and their families. I enjoyed being a role model for young people, and carrying on the family tradition of serving as a Law Enforcement Officer.
Then, Leukemia happened.
Now, nothing matters at work anymore.
I didn't become a Christian until late in my teenage years. It took an almost-deadly head-on collision with an 18-wheeler to get my attention. However, when God gave me this horrible disease, I began to question what I believe and why I believe it. As a result, I simply cannot any longer allow myself to believe that a loving God would allow something like an incurable cancer to ravage the body of someone who stood up for him for many years. It's as if my faith in him never even mattered in the first place. All of that time spent in devotion to him, all of that faithfulness given to a God whom I thought really cared for me, all of it was for naught. So frustrating is it to do all of that, only to get kicked in the teeth for doing "the right thing" for all of my adult life.
I haven't the time nor the patience to believe in a God who would go so far as to pick me up from the brink of death, only to let me drop down to the bowels of hell, and never even have the time or inclination to answer me when I cry out to him for answers.
And it's all because Leukemia happened.
I have lived an amazing life, putting myself through college and graduating debt-free, and living my dream in all of the above areas.
Then, Leukemia happened.
That's what having a terminal disease does to you.
Nothing worthwhile matters to me anymore.
Then, Leukemia happened.
Now, I barely follow the weather anymore.
I've been an avid fan of Alabama football for as long as I can remember. I never missed a Bama game on TV if I could help it. I've even been privileged to have watched a game on the sidelines with the team, gone to the locker room with the team after the game, and been to spring practice with the team on Media Day, all at Bryant-Denny Stadium. Coach Gene Stallings and I were the last two people to leave the field at Bryant-Denny Stadium that day at spring practice, as he talked with me about where I was from. It doesn't get any better for a Bama fan. I have PROUDLY bled Crimson for years. Orange and Blue is NOT in my veins.
I haven't even seen a Bama game on TV this year, let alone been back to BDS.
All because Leukemia happened.
I just had my 16th anniversary as a Corrections Officer. When I started this job, I felt as though what I was doing really meant something. I felt like what I did for my living really did matter. I felt like I actually made a difference in the lives of those with whom I had contact, both the detainees and their families. I enjoyed being a role model for young people, and carrying on the family tradition of serving as a Law Enforcement Officer.
Then, Leukemia happened.
Now, nothing matters at work anymore.
I didn't become a Christian until late in my teenage years. It took an almost-deadly head-on collision with an 18-wheeler to get my attention. However, when God gave me this horrible disease, I began to question what I believe and why I believe it. As a result, I simply cannot any longer allow myself to believe that a loving God would allow something like an incurable cancer to ravage the body of someone who stood up for him for many years. It's as if my faith in him never even mattered in the first place. All of that time spent in devotion to him, all of that faithfulness given to a God whom I thought really cared for me, all of it was for naught. So frustrating is it to do all of that, only to get kicked in the teeth for doing "the right thing" for all of my adult life.
I haven't the time nor the patience to believe in a God who would go so far as to pick me up from the brink of death, only to let me drop down to the bowels of hell, and never even have the time or inclination to answer me when I cry out to him for answers.
And it's all because Leukemia happened.
I have lived an amazing life, putting myself through college and graduating debt-free, and living my dream in all of the above areas.
Then, Leukemia happened.
That's what having a terminal disease does to you.
Nothing worthwhile matters to me anymore.