Tag Archives: family

parenting, personal growth

Running At Your Own Pace

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My 12-year-old daughter (Claire) recently attended a fall sports awards ceremony to celebrate completion of her first year of cross-country running. As her dad, it has been a fun experience watching her putting in hard work and striving to improve each week.

Unfortunately, Claire takes after me when it comes to athletic prowess. She’s tall, gangly and kind of awkward like I was in seventh grade. When I was her age, I got turned onto skateboarding, and after investing hundreds of hours into the craft, I got pretty good at it. But before skateboarding, I had zero interest or natural ability in traditional sports.

I don’t know if running will be Claire’s skateboarding, but there was an undeniable fire lit under her these past couple of months as she strived each week to better her time. She completed her first two-mile race in just under 19 minutes. In each of the following races, she was determined to get better.

Getting better was not always a linear path for her. Some weeks she excelled. Some weeks she slipped backwards in her time. But she eventually achieved her personal record of 15:51. Compared to her peers, her time was middle of the pack, but I was exceedingly proud of the improvement she made.

Shaving three minutes of her time was an admirable feat. I was even more impressed by her desire to keep making progress. Her commitment to show up to practice every day after school was truly remarkable. Claire has never been very competitive or shown much interest in team sports. But watching her compete against herself and her drive for improvement, filled me with hope.

The worry train in my brain often jumps off the track…

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marriage & parenting, personal growth, self health

3 Days in the Hospital – 3 Lessons Learned

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Last week I was plucked from my life for three harrowing days. Stripped of my belongings and even my clothes, I was locked away from the world with my every move being monitored. I was stabbed repeatedly and even injected with radioactive material.

I was in the hospital.

After a couple day of dealing with dubious chest pains, I thought it prudent to visit my local ER with the hopes that they could dispel my suspicion of heart attack. Three days later, after running a gauntlet of examinations, an automatic sliding glass door powered open granting me freedom from the medical center.

Long story short, I did not have a heart attack, but I do have an enlarged right ventricle which will require that I log more hours in the sterile spaces of our health care system.

Three days of torturous day-time TV and conversations about mortality, afford one a lot of opportunity to reflect on life and to think about the things that truly matter. Three observations stuck with me and are still bouncing around my head as I still linger in the shadow of this experience:

  1. My family’s needs supersede my own. I HATE going to doctors. I avoid them at all costs, even at my own peril. If it were up to me, I would opt out of my company’s heath care program and stock up on duct tape and gauze. But I’m regularly reminded that it’s not about me. I’m the leader of my home, and my family’s needs take precedence over my preference. If I were a single guy, I would have skipped the ER. I would have washed down a pair of Ibuprofen with some beer and hoped for the best. But, it’s not about me.
  2. I need people in my life. As a raging introvert who’s pursuing the rugged individualistic American dream, I try to weather most storms on my own. I don’t like to bring people into my messes. I posted no selfies in my hospital gown because I didn’t want people feeling sorry for me or reaching out to me. Frankly, there’s something wrong with that approach to life. Some did find out about my condition and reached out to me to encourage me. I needed that. It made a difference. I felt fairly isolated from humanity during my stay, like a con locked in the bing. Freedom came in the form of encouraging words.
  3. I need to be more humble. Okay, this thought wasn’t some grand revelation. I knew this already. I’ve been praying about humility and about breaking down my wall of pride for some time. In a way, this experience was an answer to prayer. Being wheeled through a hospital in an open-backed gown, unshaven, unbathed, blood-stained, exhausted is a humbling experience. Remembering the frailty of the human condition gives laser focus. Recognizing that I’m not in control, nor have I ever been in control of my life is reorienting. I needed all that

Friends, we are all going to find ourselves in positions from which we want to escape. I almost yanked out my IV and ninja-walked out of that hospital on day two. But I trusted there was some reason I was there, and that I would take something away from the experience. I hated it in the moment though.

If you find yourself in such a situation today, my encouragement would be to figure out why you’re there. God brought you to it. How do you need Him to equip you or change you to get through it? Don’t face it alone. You are not alone.

If you need someone to talk to, you can email me at jwilloughby443@gmail.com or call (800) 273-8255 to talk to a professional.

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On the Road Again

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As I write this, I am 35-thousand feet above the ground hurtling away from my family at a rate of 450 miles per hour, bound for Los Angeles.

I remember a time in my life when I thought this was cool – visiting far-off places, eating funky foods and breaking from the routine of life. While I still enjoy those things, they are most enjoyable when shared with my wife.

I am en route to a business meeting that will consist of around 60 of my peers. Confession time – I am not a fan of business trips. But I bet if I were to poll my peers on how much they enjoy business trips, I would get a variety of responses.

Some of these folks likely share my distaste for business travel. For some this trip is probably a welcome break. It may be an escape from a chaotic home situation.

There are homes filled with newborn cries. There is the stress of sick or aging parents. There are likely marriages in crisis. There are teenager troubles…terrible twos…teething tots. There is the lingering pain of lost loved ones.

I know this to be true, because my home has been filled with many of these same struggles. Our house is often loud. We often forget to be patient with each other. We fail to recognize that others in the house might have had an even worse day than we did.

On any given day, there can be all sorts of challenges awaiting me when I walk through the door.

But I love it. The highlight of most of my days is when I walk through that door.

As crazy as my home can be, it is also a source of peace in my life. It is the space where I get to fulfill my greatest calling. It is where I practice humility, patience and grace – where I can fail miserably at those traits and know I won’t be fired. It is where I am a respected leader and where I am being led.

It is my oasis. And I do everything in my power to ensure I spend as much time there as possible.

I work extremely hard to protect my time with my family. This means I can carry a lot of stress at work as I do all in my power to leave on time each day. Time management is essential in my life.

When it’s not possible to complete my weekly work within 40 hours, I go in early (versus staying late) to add productive time. If I don’t have minutes to spare, I avoid small talk and stay laser-focused on my tasks. I work through lunches, and I don’t schedule meetings that aren’t essential.

I go to great lengths and shoulder a lot of weight to consistently walk through my garage door around the same time each evening.

And it is so worth it. My greatest achievements each day don’t happen at work. They happen in my home when I am present with my wife and kids. I cannot wait to get home!

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My Days Are Numbered

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horseshoe

I recently took my son, Alex, to his first Ohio State Football game. It wasn’t really much of a game as OSU dished out a 66-0 whooping to a painfully outmatched Kent State.   But the truth is I didn’t care as much about what was happening on the gridiron as I did about what was happening in the stands.

In section 11A – row 17 – seats 27 & 28, my son and I bonded. We high fived, recapped plays to each other, ate hot dogs, spelled O-H-I-O with our arms and formed memories that will last a lifetime.

Our day in Columbus came at a cost. Tickets to OSU games are not cheap and typically resold well above their face value. Then you have to pay for parking and stadium food. A bottle of “smart water” cost $7, which is about as oxymoronic as anything I can imagine.

Beyond dollars, this game required an investment of time. For us to go to this game, I had to invest an entire Saturday. And with an ever-growing list of to-do items, my weekend time is precious and fleeting.

Even though I enjoy watching football, the thought of spending a whole Saturday accomplishing nothing defies my task-master mentality. But through this investment of time, I did accomplish something; I had a fun day with my son that the two of us will likely remember the rest of our lives.

Time is our most precious commodity – a gift that isn’t promised to us in any set amount. The only guarantee in life is that sooner or later this gift will run out. So how one invests this treasured commodity reveals a great deal about what matters most to them.

There is a Bible verse about time that is one of the guiding tenets in my life – “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” This Psalm reminds me that my life will be short therefore I should use it wisely. For me, the wisest way I can spend my time is with my wife and children.

In order to protect my time so I can invest it where it matters, I have to establish boundaries. One time thief that continuously threatens to encroach upon the sacred hours spent with my family is my work. I strive every day to protect my family time from my work life, doing all I can to leave at my designated quitting time and to not take work home with me.

This isn’t always easy. Not taking work home means I have to be extremely regimented about how I approach my daily work load. I try to minimize my time spent in meetings where my attendance isn’t required. And when necessary, I work through my lunch. I do everything possible to ensure that I leave at my scheduled end time.

I also have to set boundaries with my own selfish desires. I can be obsessive about cleaning my car, spending hours washing, clay barring, waxing and polishing if I go unchecked. I have more bottles of cleaning products and microfiber towels than any sane man should own.

Beyond car care, I have many other interests that could eat up my time if I allowed. I have a mountain bike quietly collecting dust in my basement, resting next to my bass guitar. And I own more books than I will ever find the time to read. But I choose not to pursue any hobbies or interests that will take me away from my family.

I’ve heard a hundred times that no one ever lies upon their death bed wishing they had spent more time at work or perfecting their golf game. Having the cleanest car on the block is not the legacy I want to leave behind. Clarity comes too late for some, and although I wish I’d come to this realization sooner in my life, I have learned to number my days.

By protecting my time and treating it like the precious commodity that it is, I am able to give it to those who matter the most to me. In 10 years, I won’t remember that my car was dirty when I drove to Columbus, but I will cling tightly to the memories of the day spent with my son.