By James Kissinger
Today is December 31, 2008. Another year has come and gone. A time for reflection. For most of this year the password into my email account has been “phoenix2008.” A daily reminder that, like the mythical bird, this would be the year I arose from the ashes to live again. To spread my wings and fly.
The beginning of 2008 found me living alone in a two bedroom townhome overlooking the golf course. Apart from my wife and children. Apart from everything that had at one time made sense to me. I didn’t get there overnight. No one ever does. It was a long road. A slow, steady march. I’m reminded of a line in the Casting Crowns song, Slow Fade, that rings so true … “people never crumble in a day, daddies never crumble in a day, families never crumble in a day.” I’d been walking toward that empty apartment for years. Perhaps I’ll share that journey on these pages one day. But today’s story is a story about hope. A story about someone who’s lost finding their way home.
When I set my password, I didn’t know what my rebirth would look like. I only knew that I was broken, that I wanted to mend … that I wanted to live again. My journey back began with an invitation to breakfast from Randall, an old friend. It was one of those calls that was out of the ordinary and I sensed an agenda, but I truly liked this person and gladly joined him for breakfast. My intuition was right, my wife had asked him to call. I wasn’t put off … I was lonely and hurting and needed a friend. Randall was a connection to the past. To better times. At first, I didn’t open up. I told him part of my story, but kept parts to myself. I kept my friend at a safe distance.
Randall and I began to meet weekly for breakfast. Sometimes I looked forward to going and sometimes I didn’t. In time Monty, another friend of ours, began to join us. I remember those first few weeks. I was dead inside. Numb. Being estranged from my wife, my circumstances seemed to dominate the conversation. By nature I’m not a needy person, and it was humbling to be the focus of attention. Week after week they mostly just listened. Someone who’s world has been turned upside down usually isn’t looking for advice, but rather for an ear so they can talk through their circumstances and reach a conclusion that brings sense to a situation that at the time might seem hopeless. They gave me that ear. They gave me encouragement when I needed it most.
I really hate using clichés, but sometimes they seem to be the best way to get a point across. This is one of those times. Men aren’t meant to live life on an island. We need other men in our lives to keep us focused, pointed in the right direction. We need those friends who will ask us the questions we need to be asked. Friends who will come along side us for the ride; encourage us when we feel like giving up. Someone who will laugh at us when we screw up for the forty-second time. I knew it, had forgotten it, and now realize it more than ever … I need these relationships.
That simple first step, sitting down with a friend for breakfast, set me on a path back home, figuratively and literally. It played a key role in holding my family together when I was at the standing at the water’s edge, ready to board my ship. Tonight, as 2008 gives way to 2009, I will rest comfortably in my bed , surrounded by a family who loves me, in no small part because of a call from a friend who cared. If you don’t have a friend, or friends, that you’re regularly processing life with, please seek them out. Make yourself accountable to someone who cares about how you live your life. Take the first step. Maybe you can pull someone out of a fire and help them fly again.
