Our Story

We all have several narratives that define our lives. Some involve our parents, others involve our spouses. For me, one of the defining narratives of my life is my journey with a chronic illness.

However, this is not my story. This is our story, because I've never been alone in this tale.

This is the story of how God has wrecked and rebuilt the lives of my mom, my wife, and myself through PCD.

... ... ...

This story wouldn't be complete
without these two by my side.

The beginning of our journey with PCD was rough, as it is with most people. Thankfully, I received my diagnosis around age seven or eight, but that was not until my family and I had already experienced immense pain. My mom, Brenda Grow, had this to say about my life, pre-PCD: “At 6 months of age Adrian started throwing up his milk and arching his back. We took him to the doctor and ended up he had spinal meningitis… They proceeded to do x-rays then and realized all of his organs were reversed! What a tailspin! Literally!”

At such a young age, PCD was nearly impossible to diagnose. However, the telltale sign of situs inversus (total organ reversal) was present, as well as hydrocephalus (“water on the brain”), a disease that may be connected in some ways to PCD – research is unclear about it at this point. It was not until I was older, around kindergarten-aged that my mom started to notice other odd symptoms. “Many mornings, we would be standing together at the bus stop and Adrian would cough until he eventually threw up mucus. After throwing up this conglomerate of yellowish-brownish goo he felt much better… this was a great cause for concern.” As a child, I personally knew something was different. I felt like I had what other kids called asthma, but mine seemed a lot worse, and I had a lot more doctors and medicines than the rest of the asthmatic kids.

Our road to diagnosis was long and difficult. Through infant spinal meningitis and my morning cough-fests, something was not right. According to my mom, our family doctor agreed, and began by running allergy tests on me. Upon discovering my allergy to mold spores, my doctor referred us to a pediatric pulmonologist, who he said would then narrow down the problem to something more specific. This led to an original (and typical) misdiagnosis of asthma. However, we could not quite get things under control, like most asthmatics could. We continued testing, including sweat chloride tests for CF, but nothing was returning positive. Somehow, someway, my doctor stumbled upon my original diagnosis of immotile cilia syndrome, which we now know to be a misnomer for PCD. And though we now know this mystery illness’ name, it still is shrouded in confusion. My wife of 3 years, Kalyn Waller, gave us these insightful words: “The journey for diagnosis seems to still be going on. Although he got diagnosed as a kid, before I ever knew him, it seems like all of us, including the doctors, are still figuring out what’s really wrong with him and the effects it has on him and his life.”

Originally, finding a doctor was not difficult. The first referral our family physician gave us was golden. My pediatric pulmonologist was a determined woman, and she would not give up on me, regardless of how sick I got. She tried every trick in her book, including keeping me under her watch until the day I turned 19, a year later than typically permitted. However, since then, doctors have been a dime a dozen. Kalyn puts it well: “It’s difficult to find a doctor; it’s even more difficult to keep one. They only have so many ideas and so it seems in order to stay healthy you have to figure out when you’ve used up all of their ideas and move on to someone else.”

Since my diagnosis, I have “used up” several doctors and their ideas. When I turned 19, I was transferred to an adult pulmonologist. He seemed smart, but he did little to nothing to care for me – no antibiotic regimens, nothing. After half a year, I lost my insurance because I got married – the new health care laws had not taken effect yet. It was all downhill from there. I only saw him a few more times, when I was willing to shell out the $300+ for an appointment, where he would literally tell me: “I’m not sure, maybe you should go to Canada.” No joke.

At the time, I did not mind his unhelpfulness. I did not know that PCD required such active care, and in my teen years, my lungs worked pretty well – I was able to exercise vigorously and play sports as I wished. Someone told me around this time I should try applying for disability. I did and was denied, and thought nothing of it – I could still do anything I needed to.

It was not until a few years into college that I had hit my breaking point. I could no longer carry my backpack without having to sit and wheeze and cough for 5 minutes afterward. I could barely climb stairs, and I was no longer able to play sports with my friends – our main method of socialization. I was an 85 year old trapped in a 21 year old’s body.

Thankfully, my in-laws were introduced to a doctor in town who was new and practicing what he described as “concierge” medicine. For a monthly fee, he was available 24/7 to his patients. It sounded like it was worth a shot, so we called him up and set up and appointment. During this time, I finally decided to re-apply for disability – I figured I had a shot since I could barely walk.

After meeting with this new doctor, a family physician, he had a lot of great ideas that I had not heard before. He was able to consult with a pulmonologist to fill in the gaps in his knowledge, and he helped me to secure my first inhaled antibiotic treatment – nobody had EVER told me that it existed. He also told me I should be sleeping with oxygen – the difference was night and day after that! No more debilitating headaches after waking up!

Eventually, I was approved for disability insurance and was able to go through 3 weeks of IV antibiotics immediately following a month of TOBI. This really kicked the crap out of my infection, and set me on the course I am on today. After getting insurance, I stopped seeing my concierge doctor – he had exhausted his ideas for me. However, he encouraged me to seek out the pulmonologist he had previously consulted with to become my primary caretaker for my lungs.

Since then, I have seen my current pulmonologist three or 4 times. We have been on a quest to help me gain weight – I used to weigh 110 lbs (and at 5’8”, that is nothing!) and now I weigh 140 lbs. It has really helped my body to utilize oxygen better as I have gained more muscle over these recent months. I recently ran for the first time since early college/high school – that was quite a milestone for me, even if it was just for a minute. But as I am seeing, fighting PCD is all about baby steps. After all, taking baby steps over a lifetime can lead to a huge change.

Living with a chronic illness is not for everyone. It takes a toll on a patient’s life, as well as on the lives of those around him. When asked about the impact of PCD on her own life, my mom expressed feelings of overwhelming fear, especially of the unknown. “The impact of the diagnosis for me at first was overwhelming in that I wasn’t aware of the extent of danger this diagnosis was and didn’t know enough to be either scared or leery.”

Meanwhile, PCD has affected my wife personally as well. She says, “PCD takes up a lot of time. I have to take over doing things that he normally does when he is not feeling well. It makes it difficult for me to be tired or sick when he’s not feeling well.”

These are situations which doctors are often unprepared to address. It may be routine to address fears of a patient, but a patient’s family experiences many of the same fears, in addition to other feelings of helplessness and desperation. Personally, the biggest impact PCD ever had on my life was during my freshman year of college. I moved away for school and was living in the dorms. It was incredibly difficult to keep up my medical regimen during this time. Whenever I was awake, I was either at school, doing homework, eating, or hanging out with people. I did not want to be stuck doing the VEST while others were having fun, especially if others were around. It was embarrassing and difficult to have to explain to every single person who walked by my dorm room why I had so many machines and why I had to use them so often.

Now, more than ever, PCD seems to wreak havoc on my personal life. Many of my friends socialize by playing sports or going on adventures – many of which I am unable to participate in. I am an adventurer at heart. I love doing things – physical things. I always want to be doing something, but that has really changed these last few years. Now, I am too tired to move at some points in the day. Luckily, I have picked up other sedentary interests, such as blogging, reading, and playing video games. However, it really stinks that I cannot be outgoing and adventurous on a whim, like I truly want to.

On a more personal level, PCD has also affected the way we are choosing to start our family. We are planning on adopting and possibly becoming foster parents in the near future. However, my wife and I both are concerned that agencies might reject us outright because of my condition. I want nothing more than to care for children who need a home and someone to love them; it would be devastating to discover that PCD might take this dream from us.

The future for my life, especially concerning PCD, is both scary and exciting. My mom and wife echo these sentiments as well. My wife expresses a few desires: “I’d like to be able to more clearly understand what’s going on. I’d also like for more treatments to be available so he can stay healthy and live as normal of a life as possible.”

My mom’s concerns are very similar. “The biggest fear for my child of course, is his own life. My hope for Adrian is that he will live a normal life span. The reality of the PCD’s impact on him cannot be minimized; hence why I cannot say ‘healthy’ life span along with normal. . My hope is that he is able to get the treatment as needed and if at some point in time he may need a transplant, then my hope of course is that he is able to do that.”

Personally, I am not sure what to make of the future. My biggest fear is leaving my wife too soon. I know she knows what she signed up for when we got married, but it has all happened so much more quickly than either of us thought it would. It is terrifying to think there is a possibility that my life might be shortened, but I am optimistic; I think I will live a full, lovely life. But that does not mean the fear does not creep up from time to time.

Eventually, I would like to find more therapies and/or treatments to help manage my health. I would also like to find some sort of exercise regimen suited to my particular strengths and weaknesses, one supported by research to help maintain lung function and capacity. Ultimately, I hope that eventually, whenever I do get a lung transplant, I might be able to breathe again. But more importantly, I hope that I will live as long as possible, without complications, transplant or not. The future for us is intimidating, but not nearly as intimidating as what we have already overcome together.

... ... ...

This story isn't exhaustive - there are several others who have joined us in this journey and who I wouldn't be here without.

Ultimately, it's important to realize that regardless of what narrative we're living, we're never living it alone.

... ... ...

Questions: What narratives have defined your own life? Who has been by your side through your journey? How has it affected them?

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading!

Less is More

Even though I'm a bit belated with updating you, our journey through 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess has continued. A quick summary to catch you up on our mutiny thus far:

Month 1: We pray seven times a day and take the Sabbath seriously. This actually causes us to bald and don robes, essentially making us monks. We eventually give up the monastic life because we hear they don't have Internet.

Month 2: We only eat seven foods for a month. My foods: rice, black beans, fish, peanut butter, spinach, pears, and coffee. My wife's foods: rice, black beans, spinach, apples, bananas, oatmeal, and almonds. By the end of this month, we crave anything and everything that is and isn't edible. We will never do that again (insert foot in mouth).

This brings us to Month 3, which we recently completed. Compared to Month 2, Month 3 was a walk in the park. We chose to don only seven pieces of clothing. This caused us to look like one of two things: bums or college students. Turns out we looked just about the same as usual.

Now I know what you're thinking: seven pieces of clothing for a month straight?! Crazy talk. Personally, I thought it sounded a little weird, too, but as long as I was allowed to eat whatever I wanted, I was okay with doing just about anything.

So we went about our month, wearing only seven clothes, which, thanks to the summer that briefly visited us in March, was relatively painless. I was only caught in the rain without a jacket once. And I was forced to shower every 24 hours because I couldn't wear a hat to school (which sounds ridiculous, but it was a pain!).

You know what the weirdest part of the entire month was? Nobody noticed or cared that I had barely changed clothes for four weeks straight. Not a single person. Not even me, frankly.

And in case you missed that, allow me to reiterate: nobody cared. It turns out that we're all so focused on ourselves that we could care less about whether or not someone wears the same clothes repeatedly over and over (and over) again. Now, granted, we're college students, and our "fashion lives" are mostly non-existent. But I suspect this would've been the case wherever I went.

This only fueled my fire for the fourth month of our experimental mutiny: I was ready to ditch every piece of clothing I had except those seven. Thankfully, my wife stopped me from completely abandoning my dresser and closet full of clothes (one of the many reasons I married her).

But, seriously, it just amazed me how much attention, time, and money we give to our wardrobe selection. We think, "Oh, I have to look just perfect, otherwise people will make fun of me." Nope, not true at all. Not even a little. The real truth that all of those department stores won't tell you is this: we're all so inwardly focused and self-conscious that we don't pay nearly as much attention to way others appear as we think we do. And that's a good thing.

Meanwhile, as I have a pair of shoes for every outfit, people all over the world (and even in our own country) are wearing shoes that don't fit and are causing them pain. Or, even worse, they're wearing no shoes at all, which causes them to cut and bruise themselves on a daily basis. And, in a worst case scenario, they don't have access to a tetanus vaccine and become direly sick as a result of stepping on rusty metal in one way or another.

Thinking about this was all the motivation I needed to purge my closet for Month 4. Even as a guy, I own entirely too many clothes. Maybe it was the fact that I grew up surrounded by women, but I've put way too much emphasis on how I look. And it turns out that the very one who I should by trying to please doesn't even take a second glance at how I appear! It turns out that he's more interested in how I clothe my heart. God wants us to adorn ourselves with himself, not with clothing that reflects even more of myself to me (since it seems nobody else cares what I look like).

And don't even get me started on the fact that by buying certain brands of clothing, we're supporting modern-day slavery. I don't know nearly enough about sweatshops, but I do know that they exist and that they support our extravagant way of living. You can turn a blind eye if you'd like, but that won't stop the reality that is our backwards way of life. It's almost like the Hunger Games, except that it's real. We're the Capitol, and they're our peons, slaving away so that we can pretend to fulfill our imagined needs (which are never fulfilled, like, ever). And that's terrifying, especially if we're seeking to live our lives to the fullest. We should never seek our pleasure at the expense of another's livelihood. 

So if you take anything away from our mutiny against excess, take this: our way of life is wrong. We're a slave to the machine that tries to sell us on the fact that bigger is better, and more is even better than that. The real truth? Less is more. So do us all a favor: vote with the dollars you do have and choose to unplug yourself from the machine of extravagance and excess. Do it for just a month. Or a week. Or even a day.

You'll quickly realize how little having every piece of clothing you want matters. Or how little some others have, while all we want is more, more, more. And all the while, our Savior beckons us all, whether we're dressed well or not, calling us to lay aside everything we have - to literally drop it all, because following him requires everything we have and everything he wants, and not everything he has and everything we want. 

... ... ...

Questions: Are you self-conscious about the clothes you wear? Do you think others would notice if you started wearing the same clothes over and over again? What areas of excess do you need to trim in order to truly be able to follow Jesus?

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading!

Disclaimer: This post contains affiliate links. I will be compensated if you choose to purchase anything through these referral links.

Imagine With Me

Yesterday, in one of my classes, a person brought up what he imagined that the world would look like if God didn't exist. What he went on to describe was horrifying, but it made me think.

This is a tough thing to imagine one way or the other.

If you're convinced that God exists, you presume that this world exists because he does. We act the way we do because he created us so. His existence seems obvious for a number of reasons, even if others can't see it.

Meanwhile, if you're convinced that God doesn't exist, you presume that this world exists as a result of purely natural causes. We act the way we do because we're fashioned by nature to do so. God's existence is a question answered obviously by the world we live in, even if others can't see it.

So today, I'd like you to imagine with me. Let's imagine together, a world that doesn't exist (at least in our minds).

For those who believe in God, imagine a world without him. What does it look like? Do we exist? How do we operate? What meaning is there in living?

For those who do not believe in God, imagine a world with him. What does it look like? Do we exist? How do we operate? What meaning is there in living?

This is an exercise that requires a lot of thought, but it's worthwhile and I think can move the "conversation" about God along further than any of our proofs or reasonings ever could. Please try to think outside of what your belief system requires you to say in response to a question. Instead, reflect on what you honestly, truly believe would be true, not what you've been told would be true.

So let's hear it! What would this imagined world look like in your mind?

... ... ...

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading!

photo credit: elogo1 - sxc.hu

On Being (C)overt

Something came up yesterday that really struck me in a way I didn't like.

I tried to shake it. I tried to ignore it. I tried to set it on fire and throw it out the window. It just. wouldn't. go. away.

The worst part was that it was about myself.

If you've been around Life Before the Bucket for any amount of time, you might have noticed that my writing covers a pretty broad range of topics. I enjoy talking about my wife, my marriage, school, God, Christianity, living with chronic illness, adoption, my pet peeves (like captchas and typos), any many, many other things.

Frankly, I love writing about life.

Yesterday, though, I realized something about my writing that I'm not so sure about.

I make no bones about the fact that I'm a Christian. I strive to follow Jesus in his example of love for God and for others, and that belief informs everything I do. My writing is no exception. My beliefs can and do bleed into my words.

Here's the thing, though. When I write, I'm always thinking in some way or another about Scripture. So, for the most part, my writing is inspired by words I've read in the Bible during my short life as a follower of Jesus. However, I'm not writing a blog specifically about the Bible (except to say that I suck at reading it), so I rarely mention in an overt fashion.

What I do want to make clear, though, is that I believe, like one of our professors says, that "All truth is God's truth." So when I write, I hope that my words communicate that truth clearly without beating you over your proverbial (or literal) head with Bible verses.

Is this okay? I'm not sure.

Would you prefer a more overt approach to Scripture from me? Or do you enjoy this more subtle style that I've chosen to employ thus far in my writing journey?

I think I know where I stand with this, but I wanted to hear from you, whoever you are, to gauge your thoughts.

What you think about this is important and means a lot to me. If you could take a moment to leave a comment with your thoughts, I would be greatly appreciative.

If you enjoy what you've read, I'd also appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing this post with your friends. Thanks a million for reading!

It Really Doesn't Matter

I wrote this post at the beginning of last semester. Since I just began my last semester of undergraduate study, I thought it would be fitting to repost it as a reminder to myself of what truly matters as I study. Enjoy!


One of the most interesting aspects of my life is something I rarely blog about: attending a Christian college.

Our school is very, very small - it averages about 330 students each year, which is less than my graduating class in high school. Having been in public school my entire life, it's a different environment for me. Everyone around here is either from some farm-town in Western Kansas, was home-schooled, or lives in areas of their hometown that I can't even afford to think about.

It's a weird dynamic to experience for four years.

I've been reluctant to write about MCC (Manhattan Christian College) for many reasons.

First of all, it really just isn't that interesting to me. There's a lot more to life than school. And although I'm pretty "good" at school, it doesn't top out my priority list.

Mostly, though, I haven't written about my school because I'm scared to hear from people who are hyper-apologists of sorts for our micro-community. Truth be told, there are people that don't want a negative word to leak concerning the school, for fear of losing something (though I'm not really sure what).

I'm still not really here to write about the negatives of my school, either. Maybe later. Much later. As in when I'm in graduate school later. But for now, I just want to share something interesting with you that I discovered last night:

All that I've learned at this Christian college is that I don't care about most of the stuff we have to learn about to get our Bible degree.

Now granted, that's a pretty sweeping statement, so allow me to narrow it down for you with a story.

Last night, we had a friend over who stops by on occasion - we love having her over. After dinner was done sinking to the bottom of our stomachs, she started talking with my wife about the Bible and about not knowing a lot of stuff about it.

My wife, being the genius that she is, told her that Bible college is good to help with that, and gave her the example of different views of Creation. She rattled off the basics of Young-Earth Creationism, Old-Earth Creationism, and the Literary Framework viewpoint. I was impressed with how well Kalyn articulated each view, but then our friend asked us where we stood on the issue.

After thousands of dollars, a dozen Bible classes, and three years of college, this is our shared view on that specific matter. You might want to get your pencils out to take notes, because it's a doozy. Here it is:

It really doesn't matter.

Say whaaaaaaaaaat?!

Okay, okay, back up. Hold up. Pause. Stop, collaborate, and listen (okay, maybe that's a little too far).

In three years of debates, struggles, studies, and "building relationships" (because that's what MCC is "all about"), that is our conclusion about most things that people bring up about Christianity and the Bible.

It really doesn't matter.

I'm just going to go on record as saying that we paid entirely too much money for such a simple answer.

I mean, maybe we've failed as Christian college students, but something tells me we haven't. You see, there's a lot of reasoning behind our conclusion. I won't bore you with the details (unless you e-mail me and ask, in which case, I'd be glad to!), but suffice it to say, there's one main reason that brings me to the conclusion I'm at with this stuff:

If it does not help me to love people more, it really does not matter.

The end. Period. That's my bottom-line. I came to MCC for a number of reasons, but I'm leaving with only one: love. Not knowledge. Not because of my degree. Not to use the skills I've learned. I'm leaving in a year because I want to love people that I don't know. I want to love people that I don't understand. I want to love people that disagree with me.

And I don't just mean a "I have to love them, not like them" sort of attitude. I really want to love people. God's equipped me especially for that, and it's what I want to do.

Arguing about Creationism? Well, unless you're pretty creative, there are very few ways that you can love someone through that.

So for now, I let the arguments rest. Chances are, when we're all dead and gone and chatting up God, we'll find out we were completely wrong about almost everything, anyway. And at that point, I don't think I'll care, so why should I now?

... ... ...

Question: What is something that you struggle with that keeps you from loving others?


If you enjoy what you've read, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing this post with your friends. Thanks a million for reading!

Remember What's Important

Today is Monday, which usually means yesterday was Sunday.

And since yesterday was Sunday, that means a guy named Tim Tebow played a game called football. And whether he did well or poorly, people were talking about him yesterday and are still talking about him today.

Have you heard of him?

Well, it turns out he did pretty well yesterday. But I'm not here to talk about Tim Tebow. Nope. I've got something more important to talk about.

Yesterday, Tim Tebow won a football game. After the game, he's required to meet with the press, and he did so enthusiastically. I listened to him talk (because I'm an avid football fan - I can't help it), and I was amazed.

The kid is clearly in a little over his head. But what he lacks in age, he makes up for in charisma. Tim Tebow bleeds energy, and it's evident that everyone around him is better for that.

Again, though, that isn't what's important. I'm not here to write about Tim Tebow. Or football. Or whether God favors the Broncos (because he doesn't). In fact, allow me to use good ol' Timmy to illustrate what I do want to talk about. Check out this interview with him after the game yesterday (skip to 1:15 if you don't want to watch it all).

Did you catch it?

In the midst of all the football mumbo-jumbo and nose wiping, did you catch it?

Tim reminded us all of what matters, and it had nothing to do with football.

In case you couldn't (or just didn't want to) watch the video, here's what happened. A reporter asked him, "Do you have a sense of what kind of phenomenon you are nationwide right now?"

His reply?

I’m very thankful for the platform God has given me…

It’s special to have the platform of playing football because I have an opportunity to affect people.

I was very excited to have Bailey Knaub here at this game… Football is amazing, we love it, but the real win is being able to comfort a girl who’s gone through 73 surgeries before the game and get a chance to go hang out with her now. That’s the biggest win of the day, so they’re both exciting, but that’s what I’m even more proud of.

Though Tim Tebow just set all kinds of records and was being lauded by the press as a nationwide phenomena, he remembered what was important. He remembered that he was just playing a game, and that the game was just a platform for something greater - in this case, comforting a girl who's been through more than any of us can imagine.

But like I said, I'm not here to write about Tim Tebow. I'm here to write about me. About you. About us.

Guys, gals, friends, family, and foes - we need to remember what's important. To remember what the "biggest win of the day" is for us. We slave over our jobs and our hobbies, whether that's writing, being a full time stay-at-home parent, or working whatever hours Wal-Mart will give us, and most days (especially Mondays), we don't enjoy it much.

But this week, even if just for a single moment, let's remember what's important. Let's put what's given to us as our "platform" in its proper place and use it for what its worth, even if we don't enjoy it

And then, let's see what's important: the people around us that matter the most. The people crying and dying for help. That someone who needs a helping hand. And those other someones we maybe neglect more than we should.

If there's anything you do today, let it be this:

Remember what's important. And then do something about it.

... ... ...

Questions:  What's your biggest win of the day? How do you remind yourself of what's important? How can you do something about that today?

Don't forget to subscribe to Life Before the Bucket! If you enjoyed this post, please use those fancy schmancy buttons down there to share this post with your friends and family!

Enjoying Life

As complicated as we make it, joy is a simple thing.

It isn't happiness - most of us know that.

It isn't monetary wealth - that should be obvious.

It is something more. Something we should strive for. We are able to find joy when we are able to praise God in what we are doing.

What does that have to do with the new year, though? How does joy help us to lose weight or to become a better person?

photo credit: lusi - sxc.hu

Take losing weight for instance. If you want to lose weight, don't do it in a way that you hate. It'll never work. No matter what you do, if you're not enjoying yourself, you're not going to be living life to the fullest.

Instead, find a way to lose weight (or whatever it is that you're doing) that allows you to praise God. This might mean doing things a little differently than they do it on the Biggest Loser. It might mean running. Or swimming. Or biking. Or all three!

Do what you truly enjoy to truly experience joy.

For me, this means finding a way to take 5000 pictures this year in a way that I find fulfilling. Last year, I had this same goal and fell short. There's a reason, though. I fell short because I let myself become paralyzed by the fact that I wasn't doing it "right" or wasn't becoming a photographer in the same way my friends were.

Don't let the fear of doing something "wrong" paralyze you from doing it at all.

And the best way to avoid this paralyzing fear? To find joy in what you're doing by enjoying what you do enough to be able to praise God.

Now this doesn't mean you have to be singing a song of praise to God while you're on mile twenty-six of your first marathon. Heck, you don't even have to be thinking of him. However, you do need to be enjoying yourself to truly be accomplishing something.

If you decide to praise God because of that - great.

If not, don't feel guilty. God didn't give us freedom in Jesus so that we would feel guilt every time we don't worship him. In fact, it's the exact opposite. Freedom means being able to do anything we enjoy that puts us in a better position to find joy and to be able to praise God.

Today, do yourself a favor and enjoy life.

You'll find yourself that much closer to discovering true joy.

... ... ...

Questions: What do you enjoy doing? What brings you the most joy? What facet of your life is hardest to enjoy?

Don't forget to "Like" Life Before the Bucket on Facebook and to use those fancy schmancy buttons down there to share this post with your friends and family!

More Reflections

You can see my first set of reflections here.

After reading a blog post from a blog that I truly enjoy, I find myself wanting to write simply for the sake of writing. Not for the comments. Not to send a message. Not to rattle cages or to make someone laugh. I want to write just to write.

Why? Because I find joy in it. Sometimes I find purpose and meaning in it. I don't know that it's "okay" in my mind to write without a purpose, but I wonder if I could be wrong in my thinking.

I write because I believe that God can communicate through my words. However, I know that he could just as easily find another way to give you a pat on the back today. Or to let you hear those words you desperately need. Am I wrong in thinking that God wants to use me?

This hasn't been the easiest few months. I enjoy most things less than I would like to. I believe that God loves us enough to let us enjoy life. But what happens when the joy ceases? Or decreases? Again, does this mean I was wrong and that I'm not to enjoy life? That doesn't seem to make much sense. But then again, that's the case with a lot of happenings in life. Trying to makes heads or tails of these events just makes them more painful.

I know a lot of things to be true. I'm smart, not because of anything I've done, but simply because that's how God created me. I'm not as quiet as I appear - I simply enjoy hearing what others have to say. I know that God has transformed my life in a way that no scientist can explain.

It's those things that I'm unsure of, though, that get me. When it's quiet and no one else is around - something else I enjoy - those things badger me, begging me to validate them.

I know, though, that God never intends those things to be known. Instead, he simply asks that I try to do what he wants me to do, and trust that it'll make sense in the end.

A Higher Truth

"Brr," is now becoming an acceptable response to "How are you doing?" around here.

You know, I enjoy Facebook.

Regardless of any unnecessary changes that might’ve happened to it and any changes that really creep me out that are coming in the near future, I enjoy it because there’s never been anything like it.

For instance, I can tell, without ever talking to a person in real life, whether a person is well-educated, snarky, rude, light-hearted, intriguing, or attractive. I don’t even have to be in the same country as them to know all of this!

Nowadays, I can even enjoy the thoughts of people that I don’t want to “friend” on Facebook. It’s kind of weird to think about, but maybe there’s something positive to take from this. You see, I enjoy Facebook, not because it gives me the opportunity to make split-second judgments about hundreds of people within the span of minutes, but because I enjoy people. And people make me think.

In fact, a couple of people, in particular make me think more often than others. One of my closest friends enjoys shaking things up a bit, and few months ago, he posted a status that spurred on some pretty interesting conversation.

The Facebook status in question.

I posted a response to my friend’s question, but it was just my initial reaction. And, ultimately, my initial reaction was summed up in this post.

As I’ve been chewing on it for a few days, though, I’ve come to another conclusion. And maybe I’d better not call it conclusion, as that implies finality and closure. However, I think I’ve been led to at least a thought or a proposition of sorts. And here it is:

We all seek truth. Of that, I have no doubt. Maybe some of us are a little misguided in our journey, but we're on the same journey, nonetheless. And in our conquest for truth, we seek facts. We want knowledge. Because what higher form of truth is there than the facts? After all, aren't facts the essence of truth?

Why then, can I distort facts? I could use the fact that 50% of marriages end in divorce to support the institution of marriage. Or I can use the same fact to say that marriage is an antiquated ritual with little to no social benefit. And in both instances I can’t be “wrong” because I’m using facts to support my claims. But both positions can’t be correct, can they?

Maybe, then, there’s a higher form of truth. Something God uses to communicate that is more than facts. And I know that my proposition can’t be proven in a court of law or supported by facts, but maybe there’s a higher truth.

To me, that higher truth is found, not in facts, but in story.

Think about it. As a child, were you taught through facts or stories? Even now, consider how you learn. Do you get to know people by uncovering factual information about them (age, height, city of birth), or do you truly get to know people through their stories?

Maybe there’s something more to truth than meets the eye.

Maybe, just maybe, we’re a little off-base when our mindsets are, “Just the facts, ma’am.”

Because maybe, just maybe, there’s something more than just the facts. And something truer, too.

Question: What sort of stories have influenced your life? Can you think of any stories that have truly changed your life? Or do facts communicate truth better to you?

I’d love to hear from you about this! Just leave a comment with your thoughts, opinions, beliefs, stories – just about whatever you want – or shoot me an e-mail!

Rest

I completely forgot to buy more coffee for the morning, so my wonderful wife is grabbing me a cup during her run. Gotta love her!

These past two weeks have been some of the most tiresome of my life. Whether because of illness or simply not being used to school, I've needed to rest every day.

It's so interesting to me how we often associate rest with sleep. I think we really miss something when we do this. If the only resting we achieve happens while we're mostly unconscious, then no true rest actually occurs.

No, resting is much more than sleeping. Resting requires intentionality and purposefulness. If we do not choose to rest, we never will. And as a result, we will often be much less than what we could be.

It's no surprise to me that God commands rest throughout Scripture. He himself rested after all of creation was set into motion. And though I don't fully understand what God's rest means, I know that if he rested in his own personal way after doing work, I need to do the same.

It's so difficult to slow down, though. To stop doing and simply be. And yet that's our school's theme for the year. To be, not do. We need to be at rest from time to time if we ever hope to do anything worthwhile.

And so, because I need to rest, I write for five minutes. No more, no less. Because I need to be deliberate about resting, about enjoying, about being. Being closer to God and becoming closer to the well-rested man that God desires me to be.

--- --- ---

And that, my friends, is my Five Minute Friday, courtesy of The Gypsy Mama.

Question: How do you plan on truly resting this weekend?

I Wish it Was Obvious

This post is part of my weekly Time for Honesty. I do my best to share something that's on my heart that is honest, sincere, and transparent - something that will get you thinking and get you to be honest with yourself.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish it was obvious.

I wish you could see how tired I am. How worn out my body is. How I feel well for about 2-3 hours a day.

Sometimes, I wish it was obvious.

I wish you could see that I'm not coughing because I'm nervous. I'm not coughing because I have a cold. I'm coughing because (ironically), it helps me get better.

Sometimes, I wish it was obvious.

I wish you could see when I'm walking next to you to your dorm room how hard it is for me to keep up with you. I don't choose to walk slowly; it's the only way I know to get around.

Sometimes, I wish it was obvious.

I wish you could see that when I miss class, it is because I'm tired. But not because I haven't slept. I'm sick, you see. I'm always sick.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish it was obvious.

And then I realize.

God sees me in my pain.

He sees my tiredness. He knows why I cough so much. He understands that it's hard for me to keep up. He gets that sometimes, sleep just isn't enough.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish it was obvious.

And then I remember.

To him, it is.

Question: Do you deal with anything that you wish was more obvious to others?

I'd love to hear from you about this (or anything else)! Just drop me a comment or send me an e-mail!

Whole

Today is our last day as interns at the Pregnancy Crisis Center. I'm not gonna lie - we're pretty bummed to be leaving and might go visit next week already.

It's Friday, Friday, Friday...!

(Sorry, I haven't made a Rebecca Black reference in a long time. Couldn't help myself.)

And if you've been around here for a Friday before,  you know what that means!

Five Minute Friday!

Here's the deal-io, yo (why, yes, I'm weird - forgive me):

1. Write for 5 minutes flat about a given prompt from The Gypsy Mama without editing.
2. Invite your peeps to check out The Gypsy Mama and link up to her!
3. Go visit and comment on the blog of the person who linked up before you.

Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

(Goodness gracious, I don't know where all of these weird words are coming from. I'll understand if this is the last time you're ever here.)

Alrighty, then. Today's prompt is...

Whole

Ready... Set... Go!

A Response

I had a breathing test at the doctor yesterday that showed improvement from last time! Now if I could just figure out why I keep waking up so early...

So, as I mentioned yesterday, God is being awfully funny this summer. And the fun just keeps rolling.

Here's the deal: I wrote a week ago about how I was starting to doubt God because things were getting a little tight in our bank account. He had always provided money from very unexpected places before, but this time, I wasn't sure he was going to pull through.

"Maybe those were just flukes - not God."

I pondered.

"Maybe I haven't been 'faithful' enough."

I reflected.

"Maybe he doesn't want to help me out again."

So I prayed.

And prayed. And prayed some more. I was sick of the racing thoughts, of the hypothetical situations. I simply wanted resolution so I wouldn't have to worry about money anymore (because I never had before).

And then it happened. God answered. Not audibly, but actively. His actions spoke words that I never would have expected:

"Adrian, I'm still here for you. All you needed to do was ask, and you did. Thanks for continuing to rely on me in times of need and times of abundance."

I mean, maybe that wasn't God's exact thoughts - in fact, I'd bet it wasn't. But that's a piece of the message I received as God answered my prayer last week after I wrote about my struggle. And for those of you who wonder about details, allow me to be stray from being politically correct and share with you some details of how God provided.

After God provided, we now have literally 50% more money to spend on food this year. And that's huge, because the money we were spending before, we didn't really have.

After God provided, we had a "bill" of sorts that was completely eliminated.

After God provided, we realized that we could completely give back the student loans we had to take out for Kalyn this semester. We don't need a dime of it.

After God provided, we realized that we're suddenly in abundance. We can not only provide for ourselves, but for others' needs as well.

I've shared this in the hope that you'll see that God is good and he does want to be there for you. Whether you lack money, warmth, a place to stay, love, comfort, or anything else you can think of, God wants to be there for you.

Let him today.

How is your relationship with God? High? Low? Non-existent? Are you in love with him or bitter with him? Why?

I'd love to hear from you about this (or anything else)! Just drop me a comment or send me an e-mail!

If you enjoyed this post, please share it with your friends! And while you're at it, find a way to "follow" Life Before the Bucket!

My Feathers Have Been Ruffled

This post is part of my weekly Time for Honesty. I do my best to share something that's on my heart that is honest, sincere, and transparent - something that will get you thinking and get you to be honest with yourself.

The other day I was perusing my infinite list of blogs, reading, enjoying myself, and probably drinking coffee, though I can't be sure (so don't quote me on that). Nothing too earth shattering arose, and I was okay with that. Until I read through K. Syrah's latest post over at Shoes Never Worn: "The Indie Writer/Indie Author."

Darn you, K, for ruffling my feathers.

(She does that sometimes, so if you're into that sort of writing, you should really check out her blog.)

Anyway, K was writing about being an Indie author, and ended her post with a quip that made a lot of sense to me, but made me kind of mad:

Of course, I say that because at this moment, money isn’t an issue, and if one has a full belly, and all the bills are paid, it’s easier to be righteous.

Now when I say that K made me mad, I really just mean she rattled my cage. Because frankly, I'm dealing with this right now, and I was mad that she brought it up and threw it in my face, as if it were no big deal. Don't mind the fact that it's completely illogical for me to be mad at her - after all, she has no clue that this is something I'm wrestling with right now.

A Fish Out of Water...

Today I am featuring my first ever guest poster! When I begged for some awesome writers to help out a couple of weeks ago, Heather, from My Husband Ate All My Ice Cream, was the first to answer the call! Be sure to give her wonderful blog a visit and show her some love and respect in the comments here! She deserves it!

A Fish Out of Water...

That is what I feel like right now, getting ready to talk about my lack of Christianity on Adrian's blog.

I was very surprised when I wrote a post for my blog called Why I Don't Have a God. The comments on the post were surprisingly respectful, and a lot of people were very tolerant of my views, despite the fact that their own views are different. I'm not usually one to talk about religion, mostly because when I bring it up, I get trampled on and questioned. I don't like to label myself as a certain religion, simply because I'm not sure there is one that fits what I believe. I don't believe in the Christian God. I believe in an after life, but not Heaven or Hell. I don't believe that there is some sort of divine guidance in my life - I believe in fate and destiny. I could type a whole post, or ten, about my beliefs. But that isn't what I'm here to talk about today. I want to talk about tolerance.

A Moment of Clarity

This post is part of my weekly Time for Honesty. I do my best to share something that's on my heart that is honest, sincere, and transparent - something that will get you thinking and get you to be honest with yourself.

This summer, I've been working full-time at the Pregnancy Crisis Center in Wichita.

And by "working full-time," I mean interning for no pay.

It's been a wonderful experience so far. I haven't had a job that would be considered full-time since I was 16, so that's been a learning experience in and of itself.

More than that, though, I've had to learn that in any job, you're going to have ups, and then you're going to have downs. And, frankly, you're probably going to have a lot more downs after the first aforementioned downs, and then you might get a single, glimmering up, followed by more downs.

Sweet Chaos

It's definitely one of those mornings where I'll need a second cup of coffee before I begin writing.

This weekend was crazy.

This weekend was awesome.

This weekend was the most fun I've had in a long time.

And this picture pretty much summarizes it:

Sweet, sweet chaos. That's the only way to describe it.

Wonder

I'm sort of famous as of yesterday. Maybe I'll share why soon...

It's Friiiiiiiiiiiday!

I would sing that for you, but then I'd lose a lot of friends.

Friday means a lot to me:

First of all, it means a 3 hour day at my internship. And after getting used to 9 hour shifts, 3 hours feels like just enough time to get there, sit down, and leave.

Secondly, it means that the weekend is here and we get to see our families. Call me a homebody, but I love our fams.

But most importantly, it means I get to participate in... Five Minute Friday!

Here are the rules, via The Gypsy Mama, if you aren't familiar:

Rule I...Write for 5 minutes flat with no editing. None. Scary? Well... tough!

Rule II... Link back to The Gypsy Mama so others can participate!

Rule III... Leave some comment-love for the person who linked up before you on TGM's site!

Today's prompt...

Wonder

Ready... Set... Write!

I wonder about a lot of things in this world.

Why, for instance, we park in driveways and drive in parkways.

I also wonder what it would be like to live on the moon. Would I finally not be the only person who isn't underweight? And would there be such a thing as obesity?  

Really, though, I wonder about one thing in particular: why God hasn't healed me from my sickness.

Now, I'm not talking about some sort of metaphorical, spiritual sickness here. I have that, too, to be sure. In all seriousness, though, I wonder why God hasn't healed me from my lung disease.

Does he not care? Does he not feel my pain? Does he not understand?

Or was Jesus an asthmatic? Maybe he had Kartagener's! Or maybe I'm just kooky for thinking such a thing.

Someone recently asked me a very odd question: "Why do you think God hasn't healed you?" I wanted to answer by saying that I'm not God and I in no way want to speak on his behalf - I'm not nearly that cool. Instead, though, I gave it a little thought and came up with this:

Sure, I wonder why God hasn't healed me. I wonder if he ever will. But frankly, he doesn't need to. I pray that he'll heal me so I can work for him better. But truly, my God is bigger than that. He can use me in spite of me. He is SO big that he can use me with diseased lungs. He doesn't need my lungs to be well for me to serve him. He's that big.

And in light of that, I don't wonder as much anymore. Instead, I'm left in awe of how wondrous He is.

END.

What are some things that you wonder about? Do you find yourself pondering the same things on a daily basis? What sort of conclusions have you reached on those things? I'd love to hear from you about this (or anything else!). Just leave me a comment or send me an e-mail!

Rebellion

This post is part of my weekly Time for Honesty. I do my best to share something that's on my heart that is honest, sincere, and transparent - something that will get you thinking and get you to be honest with yourself.


Since this is the time for my weekly Time for Honesty, I'm just going to cut to the chase. Quick, easy, painless. I promise. Here's what I want to know: 

Do you have a relationship with God?

Now, before you stop reading, hear me out. Because I'm going to assume that you don't. However, I'm not going to try and convince you of why you're "wrong." Because who says you are?

Most people (myself included) struggle with the idea of a relationship with God. We don't get it. Frankly, it doesn't make sense most of the time. Why would a Being, who created everything, down to the molecule, want a relationship with his creation? And, to be exact, how insane must he be to want a relationship with me?

If you don't have a relationship with God, I want to tell you something: God does want a relationship with you.

However, I'm not really posting this to convince you of that. Instead, I want to get you thinking about something else: why don't you have a relationship with God? What's stopping you?

One of Those Days

I sit and stare out this same window every day, and I wonder what it would look like without a screen behind it or blinds in front of it...

Okay, here's the deal.

Blogger was broken for the larger part of yesterday. Suck.

I woke up 2 hours later than I usually do today. Sort of suck.

I weighed myself. I lost 2 pounds. This is not okay. Double suck.

My lungs are currently on a mission to murder me. Super suck.

Therefore, I don't have a lot for you today. Nothing awe-inspiring or entertaining. No witty one-liners to help you bust a gut. 

Instead, I just want to leave you with this thought:

God is good, even when "good things" aren't happening. He'll take care of you if you just let him. 

And I'm working on letting him right now.

_____________________________________________________________________________

How do you keep your faith strong when things aren't going well? What do you use to give yourself a pick-me-up when you're down? Let me hear about it (or anything else that's on your mind!) in a comment, an e-mail (awaller1990@gmail.com), or on the Life Before the Bucket Facebook page!