On the days when I'm not running or cycling early in the morning, my routine is well established. Working or not, my alarm goes off at 6:30 AM. I get up at 6:40 AM. Shower. Dress. Get a cup of coffee. Pray. Read. Journal. This has been standard for years with one exception.
Right before Christmas of 2007, a buddy and I made an impromptu trip to Cabela's. He'd gotten permission from his wife to go shopping for a new pair of expensive binoculars. He and I agreed that it was truly a miracle that he'd survived in this world for so long without them and he was glad to set things right. Crisis averted, and he tossed in some fishing lures for good measure.
I had no intent of buying anything, but sitting on a shelf I found a mug that needed to come home with me. It was slightly over-sized, though not obnoxious, with a picture of John Wayne on the side. Who wouldn't like that? Inside of the mug, below the lip, read the words:
"Courage is being scared to death - but saddling up anyway." - John Wayne
Sometimes words just sort of press on your heart. Back then, I knew change was coming. I prayed for it. I wrote about it. I'd already written my resignation letter earlier in the year, but didn't feel "released" to go yet. I knew it would be soon.
I bought the mug, wrapped it up, and gave it to myself for Christmas. When my family saw what I had done, they understood.
Now, each morning when I take a sip, that quote is right in my face. It's a daily reminder. My friend Scott Dannemiller defined courage as faith divided by fear. It's an equation. Which is greater, the numerator or the denominator?
In the past 27 months I've moved into a rental house, moved out of the house, moved in with friends, and put everything in storage. I've since given away most everything I own. I've lived in a factory. Now I sleep on a cot in a friend's spare bedroom. I got off Prozac, lost 45 pounds, raced Ironman in Idaho, and rode my bike all over Texas. I lived in Italy, picking grapes and olives. I've been all over this country, from California to Pennsylvania. I've done work for a friend's investment company, two mortgage companies, laid sod and spread compost, volunteered for one thing or another, tutored a college student, managed my friend's factory, set up a business system, did statistics on a poultry farm, and on and on. Parts is parts. I've seen countless people demonstrate nothing less than Christ-like generosity, asking nothing in return. I've worked hard, played harder, and prayed every step of the way, finally facing demons I never thought I'd be rid of.
Regrets? None. Am I still scared? Every day. Do I know what's next? Nope. Do I have faith that it will all be OK? Yes.
Saddled up.
JRH
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