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Today is Mother’s Day, so to celebrate Rachel, I had the kids pull from some of the stationery I have in the office and asked them to write a letter or card to their mother to honor the big day.
I’d love to tell you this was part of an ingenious plan to draw out the inner creatives of my children, but the truth is I can’t drive, so I couldn’t take them to the store to pick out a card for Rachel. Of course, like we all know but still struggle to believe, homemade was the best choice. What my kids wrote to their mom beat ANYTHING that a stupid store-bought card might have communicated.
I joined in the fun and wrote Rachel a letter and left it by the coffee maker so she would see it first thing this morning. I wanted her to start her day knowing how much I love and appreciate her, and how much she is reflected in our kids.
Now, I know that I have my own influence on Ella and Jon. I’m not blind to the ways that I serve and bless them by being their dad. But Rachel is definitely a significant influence on their lives, and she deserves to be celebrated for it. She took the best parts of her training as a teacher, combined it with her heart’s desire to be the best mother she could, and grew herself into one of the most caring, compassionate, and yet intentional mothers I’ve ever seen.
Rachel cares about being a good mom in a way that, sadly, some parents never do. It’s her job, her calling, and her mission to raise children who are healthy, self-aware, and productive. She talks with them when they’re confused; she challenges them when their thinking leads to potentially hurtful conclusions; she sacrifices her time and energy to provide for them the opportunities and materials needed to chase and fulfill their dreams.
She’s become a chauffeur and confidante to Ella on ballet nights; she’s Jon’s accountability and mentor as he grows into his creative wanderings. And she undergirds it all with her own pursuit of self-knowledge and her intimacy with God. Prayer and Scripture fuel her efforts, and she is laying for them a foundation of how to live with God in everything you do, as opposed to just living by religious rules.
I could never exhaust my praise for her. She has taken the events of the past year and rolled with them in a way that defies description. While my cancer hasn’t been as intense as some cases can be, there’s still a lot of appointments and treatments that must be kept. My mother and father have graciously stepped in as often as needed, but for the most part, it’s been Rachel who’s served as my taxi and thinking partner. She’s carried the burden of my diagnosis with me, while being impacted by it in a different way.
We’ve wept over the fear that I might die early. We’re coming up on 20 years of marriage and hunger for at least another 30. But we’ve had to face the truth that might not happen. I might die sooner than we ever expected or anticipated, and it’s been one of the scariest things for her to face.
For either of us to face, honestly.
But we’ve also resolved to live by hope. I’ve written about that enough, but we’ve read and heard time and again that one of the key components to beating cancer, or any setback in life, is the ability to hold on to the hope before you. It doesn’t mean latching on to some pie-in-the-sky dream that denies reality; it means looking for what is good, pure, lovely, and true in every moment of every day. Hope is a transformative power like no other, and it has been our constant companion throughout this journey.
Rachel reminds me of the power hope holds. She has lived her life hopeful for what God will do in every circumstance, and she has grown with me in learning to live out of abundance. Together, we have become one: we’re not always in agreement, nor do we always approach things the same way. Unity does not mean uniformity. It does mean alignment behind a common goal or decision, and the more you align yourself with your partner, the more you find yourselves in agreement.
I have never been, nor will I ever be, more aligned with another person the way I’m aligned with Rachel. We share the same hope, the same desire for growth, the same intimacy with God. We are aligned on the power and value of prayer, often spending over an hour together in the morning to come before God and each other and discuss what’s going on in life and how best to handle things. Spiritual alignment cannot be underestimated as one of the great secrets to a healthy marriage.
We’ve drifted a bit from celebrating Rachel as a mother, but being a wife is part of being a mom. She’s showing Ella how to be a strong partner for her future husband, and she’s showing Jon what a true partner should look like for him. Her entire life—the whole of her being—goes into being a great mom, and to celebrate her fully means celebrating how she and I work together.
So I am grateful daily for Rachel. She is my partner and friend, and she is also one of the greatest Care Givers I’ve ever known. Not just because I’m battling cancer—although that’s certainly true—but because she genuinely cares for me and Ella and Jon and anyone to whom she is close. She cares deeply and wants what’s best for the people in her orbit.
That’s what Care Givers do: they want what’s best for others, and they live in a way that communicates that care clearly to others. These are the people who help heal the world, and we all owe them gratitude at the very least. That’s a strong statement, but I feel strongly about this because of the multitude of Care Givers who have made a difference in my life over the last 14 months.
As you can imagine, I’ve been on the receiving end of a lot of kind words and gestures since I was diagnosed with cancer. That’s natural, of course, especially here in the South where compassion and generosity are best expressed through the unrelenting impulse to take people casseroles when tragedy strikes. True Southerners believe unfailingly in the healing power of food, especially food that can be served up in a nice, disposable aluminum pan.
But I’ve received tokens of care that go deeper than the crust on a homemade peach cobbler; I’m talking about the kind of thoughtful, moving gifts that come from the hearts of people who genuinely want to bring comfort with their actions.
To illustrate this, I took pictures of four tokens of care that I’ve received during this journey. They all live within my reach, either in my office or in the living room, so I can pick them up or look at them when my spirits need lifting.
I’ll start with this one, courtesy of a young tight end for the University of Georgia football team whose father happens to be my co-worker and friend:
That ball came to my house completely unannounced, and when I opened it up and read the card from Chris, Sarah, Ryland, and Addi Goede, my eyes welled up with tears that stung in a good way.
As a UGA grad, the ball—signed by several members of the 2020 squad—was of course meaningful and ridiculously cool. But the idea of Rylan going to his teammates and asking them to sign a ball for a random guy they don’t know and likely will never meet filled me with an inexpressible humility.
To think that a young man would go to such lengths for me, just to raise my spirits?
Ryland is one of the most Christ-like young men you could ever hope to meet, and he makes it a point to share the love of Jesus in everything he does. Whether he’s blocking for a teammate, or catching a ball over the middle, or delivering strikes as a pitcher for the UGA baseball team1, or talking to someone who’s having a bad day, Ryland is committed to loving others the way God loves him.
And because of that, and because of how Chris and Sara raised him to be such a wonderful young man, I now have one of the coolest keepsakes in the world.
Speaking of keepsakes, here’s the next token from a true Care Giver of mine:
This Mont Blanc pen came courtesy of Mark Cole, my boss and the CEO of the John Maxwell Enterprise. Mark is my leader, mentor, and partner in our mission to help transform the world through the power of people-centric, values-based servant leadership. He encourages me and challenges me to grow in my role as a leader and business person, and he was one of the first people I called when the doctor told me I had cancer.
After I explained everything to him, Mark’s response was immediate: “We are going to pray for your complete, miraculous healing. You have more to give the world and we’re going to help you fight for it.”
And help he has. I’ve told him that without the support of Mark, his wife Stephanie, and the people and culture of the Maxwell Enterprise, I wouldn’t have been able to fight this diagnosis the way I currently am. Having a company full of people who are praying for you, thinking of you, and reaching out to encourage you on a regular basis is some of the greatest medicine in the world. My co-workers at JME continually refresh my hope, and Mark leads that charge personally, living out our corporate values and his personal mission.
Because of that, he sent me that pen with my word for 2021 engraved on the side: Presence. Every time I pick that pen up to journal or jot notes, I am reminded not only to be present in the moment, but to be present in all of my life, in both body and soul. The pen is gorgeous and perfectly weighted (Mont Blanc makes some nice pens), but the person behind the gift is what brings me near to tears whenever I use it.
The same goes for these cool beanies I received, anonymously, in the mail a few weeks ago:
I had no idea who sent the beanies until I was on a Zoom call with my co-worker Jason Stoughton and he asked if I had received a package full of beanies. When I told him I had, and that I should’ve known he sent them to me, Jason just laughed and assured me it was his pleasure to have sent them my way.
Jason is a co-worker of mine and a good friend. We’ve only known one another for a couple of years, but ever since we met there was a connection that’s only fueled our growing friendship. Jason is passionate, determined, and full of life—and the owner of one of the most powerful personal stories you will ever hear. What he’s overcome to be the man he is today is nothing short of miraculous, and his faithfulness to trust God in all circumstances is inspiring and humbling at the same time.
What I love about Jason is that he sees the world in a very similar way to me: that if I do what is right, obeying God and trusting His timing, then things will work out in the end. Despite being charismatic and charming, Jason has never abused those gifts to rush God to open doors of opportunity. He’s been content to hold back, allow his character and his production speak on his behalf, and it’s produced a life that continues to grow in its potential and blessing.
Jason never fails to inspire hope whenever we talk; he’s like an Epi-Pen™ of spiritual hopefulness, just a straight shot of faith that helps you make it one more day. He frequently texts me and lets me know he’s thinking of me, and if he’s thinking of me that means he’s praying for me as well.
And finally, when it comes to the topic of prayer, here’s the last token I want to share with you:
This lovely note and these wonderful cards with Bible verses written on them came to me courtesy of Sharon Burcham, another co-worker and another gift that arrived unannounced through the mail. Ms. Sharon works for our non-profits, The John Maxwell Leadership Foundation and EQUIP, and she is one of the loveliest people you’ll ever meet.
Fiery and full of faith, Ms. Sharon is known for her kindness as well as her determination. For a long time she was in charge of recruiting people to join our non-profits as trainers and associates, a task that required not only a willingness to make a big ask of people, but a desire to see those same people step into a larger world and make a difference.
She’s been through a lot in her lifetime; in her note, she shares that the cards she sent me are similar to the cards she made and used during her husband’s battle with cancer, and she lost her husband in September of last year. There’s something powerful about someone who can reach out in the midst of their own grief and offer care to someone else who is struggling. I’ve not had many opportunities to do so myself—and candidly, I’ve passed on some opportunities because I simply didn’t have the strength to reach out—but when I have offered consolation or encouragement to someone going through a difficult time, I come away feeling better in my own battle.
It was Ms. Sharon’s note and gift that prompted my thinking for this post. I am here today because of the grace of God, the love of my wife and children, and the care given to me by the people of my community. It’s a community that defies geography or demographics; it’s composed of those people whom I’ve come to know and love because their mindset and outlook on life keep hope and abundance and the goodness of God front and center in everything they do.
That holds true even for the people who aren’t believers in Jesus. There are members of my cultivated community who don’t share my religious faith, but still share my faith in the power of hope, of personal discipline, of generosity and kindness towards others.
It’s the key to living a long and healthy life—which is exactly what I’m chasing.
There’s one final Care Giver that I’d like to mention in this newsletter because I’d be remiss if I didn’t give them a shout out. It’s you, the reader. Your willingness to take on my concerns and the stories of my journey each week are helpful because you give me a platform (and permission) to speak my mind on what I’m learning and experiencing through this fight.
Whenever you read this and leave a comment, or share it with a friend, or pass it along to someone else who is battling cancer or another medical challenge, you help me feel complete in a way I can’t explain.
I don’t think that I have cancer for a reason; but I will find a reason to use this time of my life to become a better person and share what I’m learning to help others. I want people to see their own potential and brilliance reflected back at them through my words, and I have some projects that I want to finish (or start) that I’ve been meaning to do for a while, but lacked the courage to just launch them.
One is my long-gestating, still-to-be-completed book, Learning to Write, in which I document my journey to becoming a writer and share some insight on what every writer must face if they want to be successful. Another is a story idea that came to mind after watching several spy/action/espionage/conspiracy thrillers on Amazon Prime. It’s brand new, but it’s quickly developing, and Amazon has a new format for sharing serialized stories that I’m dying to try out.
Additionally, I’m thinking about re-starting my podcast but changing the format to shorten the episodes and focus them more on what I’m learning/have learned about writing, life, and the battle with cancer. I’ll let you know if I decide to actually reboot and put something out. If you’d be interested in any or all of these projects, let me hear from you in the comments, or you can tag me on Twitter or Facebook with your interest.
But if all you’re ever interested in is this newsletter, then you still have my thanks for being a Care Giver to me. Your support and kindness are deeply felt and appreciated, and I am grateful to each of you for reading.
It is far better to give care than to take it. May we all remember that as we encounter others, and may we keep in mind the following from Ian MacLaren, the pen name for Rev. John Watson:
“Be kind, for [everyone]2 is facing a hard battle.”
Prayer requests for this week:
For Jason—I go back in the chair for round 5 of treatment on Tuesday, meaning I’ll have three more to go before my next progress scan; please continue to pray for side effects to even out and develop a consistent pattern; please continue to pray for a miraculous and complete healing of my body; please pray for stamina and focus to finish my writing book and get it launched on Amazon, as well as for the energy to pour into other creative endeavors that will leave a legacy.
For Rachel—for her to feel loved and celebrated on this Mother’s Day; for her continued improved sleep; for continued stamina and strength to finish out the school/ballet year’s driving chores; for her continued personal growth and study.
For Ella—to continue making new and healthier friends; for her unhealthy former friends to stop antagonizing her and leave her alone; for energy and strength to finish the school/ballet year with excellence; for her upcoming end of the year ballet performance and recital; for an opportunity for her to take and pass her learner’s exam, and then for her to get the hang of driving safely.
For Jon—to find and develop healthy friendships for his middle/high school years; for his continued pursuit of creative interests, including animation, design, acting, and other storytelling outlets; for his upcoming growth spurt; for his continued development as a student and young man, that he would always be respectful and kind in everything he does.
This has been a long newsletter already, so my parting thought will be short. In essence, it boils down to this question:
Starting today, what kind of person do you want to become by the time you die?
One of my counselors tossed a version of this question to me a while back, and it’s been a helpful thought to keep me focused and present on a daily basis. I want to become the kind of man that my wife and children would always carry within their hearts as a source of wisdom, unconditional love, and unflinching encouragement for them as a human being.
I want to become the kind of man whose influence was without boundaries, so that people would travel from out of town to attend my funeral and celebrate my life with others who were similarly touched.
I want to become the kind of man who is remembered for reflecting back to people their own brilliance, giftedness, and worthiness.
Kevin Queen, pastor of Cross Point Church in Nashville, Tennessee, shared a thought in his sermon this week that I would pass on to you: what are five statements that you can live by over the rest of your life that would help you become the kind of person you want to be before you die?
Carve out some time and think about that this week. What five statements would help keep you focused on becoming the person you deeply want to be?
As always, thanks for reading.
Best,
Jason
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Yeah, he’s that good. Two-sport athletes are genuinely amazing, whether they’re considered superstars at one or both or not at all. It still takes crazy talent and unrivaled discipline to be able to excel in two different sports to the point that you are recruited to play major college ball in both.
The original text reads “every man,” but in our modern day and age, I think “everyone” strikes the proper tone and invites inclusion, rather than exclusion.
God bless you and your family. Your illness has blessed you with an appreciation of life and the importance to hold the moments of each day in wonder and cherish the little things we so easily rush past. I am sure you are going to beat this illness with the support of your family, friends and caregivers. Stay strong!
Jason, I am praying for and with you every step of the way.