When I was nine, we discovered the hard way a bee sting
could kill me. I was rushed to the
emergency room after a severe reaction to a sting. The doctor told us that day
I am deathly allergic to bees. Since
then, I have kept an EpiPen nearby, especially when I travel to foreign
countries. And, fortunately, a bee has
not stung me again until just a few months ago. That’s actually a small miracle since I have
a tendency to go to far off third world-type places for missionary work.
That day recently, I was alone, walking along one of my
favorite beaches in North San Diego County, listening to music and enjoying the
amazing weather. I had just finished my
favorite breakfast of 7-11 coffee and a chocolate glazed VG’s donut. It was a good day. I was wading in the water as I walked, and
oddly enough, a bee stung my foot underwater.
I felt the sting then saw the bee in the water. Its one thing to find out you could die from
a bee sting after it happens, it’s another thing to know right then and there:
this could kill you.
I can find fault with a lot about myself. I’m often my worst critic, though there are some
high school students who have done a pretty good job of it. But, one thing I have discovered about myself
through a TV news career and working as a full time teacher – I am good in a
crisis. I can be freaking out on the
inside, and I most definitely will freak out on the outside later. But, in the midst of a crisis, I thrive. Like that time two students started a fire in
my classroom. Or, when I was driving in
a tornado. You get the picture. I’m almost afraid I’ll never reach my full
potential outside of crisis.
So that day, I ran for my life. It took me ten minutes to run to my car,
where I thankfully had an EpiPen. And, I
gave myself that shot I had feared for decades. It bled more than I expected, but a beach
towel is good for that. I knew the next
step was to go to the emergency room, so I drove myself to the nearest one
about 20 minutes away. Everything is
about 20 minutes away in San Diego, unless it’s in your neighborhood. I called my parents on the way to the ER,
because I figured someone should know what just happened. The emergency room doctors gave me some more
drugs and kept me for observation for a while and sent me on my way.
Not long after that incident, the national news covered wildfires that engulfed my community. There
were nine wildfires in North San Diego County in one day, under especially dry
and hot conditions. I could see the
smoke from my school and my gym, and I live close by. Our school was cancelled for two days due to
the emergency situation, and some of my friends were evacuated from their
homes. I returned to that same bee
habitat beach and watched the smoke from the fires rise above it.
These two incidents, and a lot in my life in recent years,
have made me pretty introspective. Real
crisis also helps put a lot of things into prospective. When I was rushing to the emergency room by
myself in Saturday beach traffic, I started thinking about any regrets I would
have if I died that day. There were only
two: 1) I wish more of my family and close friends actually lived close to me,
and we could spend more time in person together. 2) I wish I had been married and had children
of my own. The amazing thing is I can
also see the blessings in both, and see how God has used my singleness for
good. I have met many of my close
friends by moving and taking personal and career risks. I
have had many experiences by being single that may not have been possible if I
was married, and I know I have been able to impact more young people through my
availability as a single adult. I am
thankful I have not been through a divorce.
I still desire to be married and have children, but in the meantime, life is still good.
When the wildfires were raging, I started to make an evacuation
list of my belongings. I have downsized
in the last seven years through moving to San Diego where rent is double the
price for double the sunshine and half the space. Looking around my place, it was pretty
amazing how, besides the furniture and kitchen stuff, most things had distinct
personal meaning. I made a list that
included things like my high school senior class yearbook, the first set of The Chronicles of Narnia I have owned
since the time of that original bee sting, some framed mementos, some items built by my dad, and personal gifts. Ultimately, I decided I would load anything I could fit into my car,
but the stuff on the list took priority.
I had a friend who once told me he did not understand how I find
funny moments in the midst of serious situations or conversations. Here’s the deal: when you have seen some of
the horrors I have seen in person as a reporter (teenagers literally splattered
on the road from a car crash, dead bodies at crime scenes, acres and acres of
homes and lives destroyed by tornadoes or hurricanes) or when suddenly your speech is impaired for no apparent reason and you talk for a living or you’ve
sat by the hospital bed with your mom fighting cancer, you know that humor can
help.
So, when I was making my evacuation list, a 20x30 framed print
of this photo of my best friend Pat and I -- painted up and shirtless at a
Broncos game, supporting Tim Tebow, featured on the home page of ESPN.com -- made the
list. Pat and I have laughed through
many serious situations and conversations.
And, I laughed joyfully knowing full well I would end up being the guy evacuating
his home, walking behind the reporter in a TV news live shot, carrying this
huge poster of his friend and himself shirtless at a football
game.
Oh yeah, and by the way, when the recent bee sting crisis was over
and I left the emergency room, I
realized 7-11 coffee and a VG’s chocolate-glazed donut could have been my last
meal. And, that made me laugh with joy too.
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18:
Rejoice always, pray
continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you
in Christ Jesus.
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