I’m going to be fairly blunt here. Things have been ridiculously tight for us lately, more so now than at any time in the past seven months. And we’re down to one reliable vehicle … for now. That means there are a lot of logistics involved — a lot of daily planning and communication — in four family members’ needs to get anywhere, whether it’s a part-time job for my oldest son, looking for a job for my youngest son, getting our daughter to and from school, and a variety of needs for my lovely wife and me.
It doesn’t help that the one vehicle we have left running reliably is the most expensive to drive.
Losing our minivan last week to transmission trouble was quite a blow to our already fragile outlooks and psyches. We’ve been having to work to lift each other up, remind ourselves constantly to hold on to our faith, keep telling ourselves and each other to just pray and … hold on.
That hasn’t been easy.
On Tuesday, we had a “lifeline” tossed to us. Two people who are huge parts of our lives sent along that lifeline, something to help tide us over for a bit. It brought tears to my eyes when I saw what had been sent to us, to think that the people who each sent us a “lifeline” aren’t exactly in the greatest position to do that kind of thing themselves but they’re sitting prettier than we have been lately ourselves, and to think that I really don’t want to have to be in this position to where we need that kind of help.
Our gratitude for the generous lifeline is beyond measure, and I hope those who sent it to us realize that.
I still have big dreams for our future. I can still see a way to make those dreams become a reality, but some things need to shake loose that aren’t exactly in my control in order for that to begin to happen. I still believe, in time, that they will happen.
Part of the dreams that my lovely wife and I have are just to live comfortably, to help give our children a more comfortable and worry-free life. Nothing extravagant, just … comfortable.
We want to pay back those who have helped us along the way, starting with those who sent us the lifeline that was received on Tuesday when it really was needed — when I was really starting to have that awful feeling that it was getting harder to “breathe.” We want to pay them back, with interest. We’re not afraid of putting in any work that it takes to do that.
We want to live comfortably ourselves, yet still travel the world on mission trips in order to help others around the globe who need it, no matter where that might be — Haiti, Africa, South America, or right here in the United States. There are great needs all over the place, and that has been a part of our plans and our prayers for quite some time now … to help those in need, not thinking so much about ourselves.
We want to help others get the chance to “breathe easier,” much the same way we’ve been helped.
We’re holding on to that dream.
First, we have our own valleys to get through before we climb that mountain.
For some reason, upon receiving that “lifeline” from our loved ones on Tuesday, I kept thinking of a crucial scene toward the end of the Tom Hanks movie “Cast Away,” where the main character has just returned home after several years being stranded alone on an island following a fatal plane crash in which only he survived.
Hanks’ character is sitting in the warmth of a friend’s home, sharing his feelings and experiences about his most desperate moments, his feelings about finally coming back to find that the woman he loved so deeply — the one he thought of as a “lifeline” while on that island, the one that kept him going day after day — belonged to someone else, because the woman he loved thought he was dead.
Hanks’ character realized he had to keep breathing, he had to go on, one day at a time.
So do we, until we reach that goal we have in mind. We still have a dream to work toward, a vision left to realize.
With a little help from our loved ones, like we received on Tuesday, we can make it. And we will be thankful that we have been blessed.
Copyright 2012, Daddysangbassdude Media
- Lifeline (souplady.typepad.com)
- The Pain and Pleasure of Starting Over: accept.breathe.choose (shareyourlovestory.com)
- Breathe (dotunsblog.wordpress.com)