Recently, I participated in a men’s fishing retreat in Minnesota. I would love to share some reflections with you all.

     Hi, folks. How are you? I am doing well. I have just gotten home from, first, a fishing trip to Grand Rapids, MN. and secondly from a campout at Saylorville Lake, here in Iowa. It was a trip that, no matter how many times you go, can change a person. It was not just a bunch of hairy, smelly men, fishing day and night, (although those of you who know me, I did produce some rather malodorous emissions, so as not to disappoint ;0) ) it was much much more than just that. Relationships were made based on a commonality, that could only be discovered in such a venue as Wildwood Resort. We were 8 hours away from wives, and children, though, they were never far from our hearts and thoughts. Much “man food” was consumed. Maybe someday, I will write a wilderness (satirical) guide for “bachelor for a week" men. I went up there, thinking “maybe I will know a couple of the guys, and it will be a good get away.”  But, God had so much more in store than that.

    Day one: Travel day. Meet at the rendezvous at 0530, loaded and on the road by 0600. All went well, and we were on our way. After fuel stops, and a stop at Cabela’s we were on schedule to arrive at the resort (per: stinger*( (*some information will be omitted to protect the innocent)) no sooner than 1500hrs for check-in. Some people arrived before us, and were already fishing by the time we in the bus arrived. Not that big of a deal, but boat space is at a premium, so some were left “up the creek, without a paddle”…or even a boat in which TO paddle. So we unpacked as any self respecting man would. Put your suitcase in the corner or on the bed, grab your fishing gear, and get to fishin’. Ladies, don’t roll your eyes…we only unloaded the suitcases to get to the fishing gear. Fishing was just a precursor to Sunday morning. A time to get the lines wet, check the equipment out, be ready to hit the water bright and early Sunday morning. It was after this evening fishing, that it became much more than just a fish camp.

    A perfect campfire was produced, and we descended en masse, as a swarm of mosquitoes would, upon catching the scent of human flesh. The group settled in, and shared a good hearted ribbing of one another and appreciated the first of several incredibly picturesque sunsets. There was to be no question, throughout the week, that we were witnessing an intricately choreographed display of God’s grandeur. But the blessing came when my roommate delivered a heartfelt and well prepared devotion. Scripture was taken from II Peter, and was a challenge to strive for excellence. After a long day, and a quiet evening with the lord, it was time to retire to our lodge, and wind down from the day’s activities. We went to bed eagerly anticipating the dawn, and the stories and memories to be created.

     Day two dawned bright, sunny, and with robins chirping contentedly in the trees…okay, I stole that from Cinderella. The dawn was cold and foggy, but held so much more in store for us first timers. You see, I don’t think I have ever seen a bald eagle, as a guest in its natural habitat. Sure, I have seen them stuffed, or in shows where a trained eagle will land on a guy’s arm, but there is no comparison to eagles in the wild. I will never forget the sound of the eaglets as they cried their shrill cries, in search for mom and dad’s provision of fresh food. Then, I saw the parents. Breathtaking. I actually saw the shadows first. I had been casting my lure, and all had gotten quiet. Then, the sky seemed to almost darken briefly. I looked up to see the undercarriage of our national bird gliding majestically over our heads with it’s mate close behind. I am not sure if my mouth actually dropped open, but I would not be surprised if that was the case. I think it was at that moment that I realized that fishing was not the reason for the trip. It was clear, that God chose this time, and these men to fill my cup and prepare me for what he has in store for me.

      I could spend the rest of my time simply describing the weather, or give a fishing report, or even a play-by-play of the feeding habits of the eagles, but I won’t. For me, this trip was about becoming a man again. For various reasons, I really haven’t been able to do much outdoors over the last several years. Since I got my heart, I have been setting and meeting goals. For me, it is all about defining my new normal. More importantly though, what I WANT to be my new normal. The trip just gave me the time to pray, and focus. Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t like a monastery, with somber silence, and singing in Latin. We had a great time. We laughed, sometimes cried, shared our grief, and our joy. We formed bonds and friendships that could last a lifetime. I learned a glaring truth.

     We as men, fathers, husbands, co-workers, or whatever role we play in each other’s lives, really need to learn to let our guard down. I came home with a new found love and respect for my wife and family, and how graciously they all endured the unnecessary hell I have put them through these last many months. We feel inclined to repress our emotions, so as not to burden our loved ones. If only I had been able to truly communicate to Mary and the girls, the times I was in pain, or in fear, or spiritually discouraged. We would not have had to wait for me to either live or die to get on with living. I let the illness be my identity, but, worse yet, it became their identity as well.

     So, what did I learn in Minnesota? I haven’t really analyzed it all yet, but I know that I have changed. For the better. I mentioned newly formed bonds and friendships. These helped me realize, that we all have to deal with tragedy and loss in our lives. It is how we choose to endure them, whether alone, or as a family, or group, that makes us who we are. Something that was said during one of our incredible devotional times, will help me grow for years to come. I will leave you to ponder this statement, and I sincerely thank brother Frank for sharing this well timed devotion. “God will never leave you helpless, homeless, or hopeless.”

    God bless you, and look for more posts to come.

                                                             Mark

     Howdy, Hello, Aloha, Hey, SSSSUP! What’s shakin?, Hi, and any other greeting you find comforting. Fast fact: early Christians would greet one another by saying “He is risen” and the response was “he is risen indeed”. Wow! What it must have been like to exist in those early days. The sense of tragic loss, yet the immense hope the true believers had been given. And those who had realized what they had done, what they had participated in. Though, at that time they were few. I hope, when I get to heaven, there will be stories from those days. The miracles they had witnessed. The feeding of 5,000 men, which would then include the wives and children beyond that number, with a couple of fish and a few loaves of bread. Wow.

     Well, as you know, we made the pilgrimage to Rochester for my first annual heart checkup. We left Des Moines on Sunday, to get up there and relax in the pool and the hot tub before my appointments began Monday morning. Caitlyn is in Florida (actually as I write this, she is back in Iowa, and will be home in a couple of hours.) so, Jordan invited a friend to come along with us. It made things interesting and kind of fun at the same time.

     Monday dawned bright and promising, as I awoke, and showered at 0500 in preparation to catch a shuttle to Mayo. Of course I was unable to start the day properly with prayer and coffee, so prayer had to be enough. Somehow it always is. I got to the lab early, and had my blood drawn, and headed to chest x-ray. The first day, was a testing day, so each test required me to be fasting. Not the most fun when you have a gut full of nasty meds, and nothing to buffer them from the stomach acid. Anyone who has ever burped and tasted cyclosporine, would attest to the fact that food is a necessity. Regardless, I knew what to expect, and was able to get through the day, seeing familiar faces, and reuniting with fellow patients pre and post transplant. There was a slight scare, when dermatology decided to remove and biopsy a mole on my back. She sliced it off with the dexterity of a hockey player (no offense Pastor Terry) and the finesse of a viking. This proved to be the first in what was to be a myriad of holes in various strategic locations along the length of my body.

     Day two was not as hectic, with only a couple of tests, and ending in the treadmill stress test. I can now assure you all, that my heart will exceed 150 beats per minute, without any serious consequences.  There was some fatigue afterward, but that is to be expected.  If you are keeping count, I think at this point, that we were up to about 5 holes acquired since arriving at Rochester.

    Wednesday, the final day, was a different story. This is why us patients become somewhat cranky when doctors cover us up so all they have to look at is a 3” by 3” hole in a surgical drape in which to attempt to force a needle, rather then  acknowledge that they are working on a living, breathing, human who is nervous, and conscious. Local anesthetics are good, but they don’t insulate us from the pain that comes from repeated failures to break through the scar tissue. After 45 minutes of muted swearing, and apologies for the pain which was becoming excruciating, they aborted attempts to enter my neck and went into my groin. After that, the procedure went quite smoothly. The damage was already done, though. I am home now, but I am still in pain, 5 days later. Mayo is a great teaching hospital, but I think I have paid my dues. I have earned the right to demand the “first string” doctors and let the trainees watch.

     After recovery, We (Mary and the girls had left the hotel, and were waiting to take me home.) had one last consultation with the transplant docs, to discuss all of the results from the testing throughout the week. PRAISE GOD! The answer to my prayers throughout the week was NO! No cancer, No heart disease, No kidney dysfunction, No clogged arteries, No rejection, No negative results whatsoever. I thank God for my biggest complaint being a sore neck and groin. I read some back blogs, and what we have been through together, and here I am whining about my neck. Well, my neck hurts, so, I will whine for another day or two, but I will not forget to thank God for the miracle that my life represents.

     I have lived over a year, with a transplanted heart, but beyond that, I have lived since October 24th, 2005 after a massive heart attack, or two. I will continue to live for God until I breathe my last, and then I will live forever. (John 3:16). The last few years have taught me, that we only need to trust him. The docs are often great men of medicine, and the nurses are arguably angels in human flesh, but they are limited by their own humanity. My God is only limited by our small thinking minds. All we have to do is stay out of his way, and let him work. Where I work, at Jordan Park Camp, we see miracles daily. We are a cut and patch group of men who believe in miracles, and God provides our needs, often before we even realize we have them. Keep strong in the faith. Believe you are special, and belong with God. And know that, with that belief, comes eternal salvation. God bless, and please, pray for each other. As always, I love you all.

                                                                                                                                                   Mark 8/1/08

      Hey, it’s me. Yes, I am still here, in fact, I am doing quite well! I know I haven’t written much since May, but I have been busy witnessing miracles, and acts of God on a daily basis. How often can you meet someone, who genuinely loves his/her job? It seems, as though, everyone who spends any length of time out here (Jordan  Park Camp, West Des Moines, IA – www.jordanparkcamp.org) gets so infused with the history, and beauty of this place, that they never want to leave. I often awake in the middle of the night, dreaming about this place. I want to share a little on the miracles out here, and for those of you who are skeptical, well…

    The first miracle…Duh! I wake up every day, full of energy, okay, but at least I am highly functional. I feel great. I walk around with a big ole’ smile on my toothless face. Sometimes I even pop my dentures in and smile bigger than life. It is funny, just to sit and ponder on what an incredible journey I/we have been on. If you told me this story, I would think you were full of it, or at least slightly nutty. Since I got this heart, I have experienced things I would never imagine. I was in an “Easter drama”. I played in a volleyball league. I am currently playing in a slow-pitch softball league. I work long, hot, hard days, and come out of them feeling pretty darn good.

     Today is August 2nd. Yesterday was my first “heartversary”.  What an incredible day! The day dawned to find me patiently waiting at 0630, for Rick and Terry to arrive for a much needed morning of fishing. Rick has been telling me about this place since we met, and every time we had plans to sneak away and go fishing, duty called. But today, finally, we got there. OH BOY! DID WE GET THERE! Those of you who have met me in person would know that I have huge hands. I say that for reference. We were catching bluegill the size of my hand on a consistent basis. We kept 37 fish, which was enough to satisfy the hunger or 5 grown men, and 4 boys with a couple of pounds left over. But, alas, the day was full, so we had to boogie out of the fishin’ hole and head back to town, for other pursuits.

     We had a softball game scheduled for 1200hrs, and a stop to make before getting there. It was an incredible game, with both sides playing good solid defense. We eventually won the game, and had a wonderful time doing so. We are often referred to as the “pastors team” as we have 3 pastors playing for us. We are also referred to as the “old guys” team, because with the exception of two guys, I am the youngest man at the age of 38. So to beat the young pups, was not only a big win for us, but also a moral victory. We now stand at 4-3 on the season.

     Now it was time to eat. I had taken my meds at 6am, and had not eaten a single thing all day, which is not good for my stomach, so it was not only upset, but was growling and hollering trying to get my attention. Patience my friend. It was time for the aforementioned fish to step up into the spotlight. Rick put on a fish fry, and it was nothing short of spectacular. I, being a loving and caring person, took on the responsibility of “food safety inspector”, a job I take very seriously. I repeatedly taste tested the fish, to ensure consistent bone free flavor for the guys. There is no comparison to eating fish you have caught yourself. It is simply the best.

    After the gut stuffing ended, a cake was produced, seemingly out of nowhere. I had been had! Our “fish fry” turned out to be a celebration of my 1 year anniversary of my heart transplant.  The guys I work with on a daily basis, had gathered round, to help celebrate a special milestone in my life. These are a group of amazing and diverse guys. I am the youngest of this group also. These guys are men who come to work each and every day as unpaid volunteers, and pour their hearts into the work of serving the lord and restoring Jordan Park Camp. It was a time of fellowship and laughter, and something of a sendoff, in preparation for my upcoming trip to Mayo.

     I returned home to find Mary, and Jordan (Caitlyn is currently traveling to Orlando, FL, for 10 days) sitting on the floor amidst a huge pile of laundry. Too late, they saw me, and pulled me in! They were packing and repacking, and packing again for the trip to Mayo. As I previously mentioned, there were leftovers from the meal to be shared. Neither of them are fish eaters, but the cake was a different story. Later, Mary popped some popcorn, and we watched a movie. Then off to bed. As I said, one of the best days a guy could ask for.

     I want to thank all of you who emailed, texted, and called with warm thoughts, and prayers to help celebrate my year. What a year it has been. Life has been crazy, a good kind of crazy. Things have settled down enough to get back into writing, so be on the lookout for new posts. We are leaving later today for Rochester, MN. It is time for the 1 year checkup and it takes about 3 days to complete all of the testing. Please be in prayer that all is well. Also, be in prayer that God will guide my hand, in the letter I am writing to the family of my donor. As always, I love you all.

                                Mark

     Hi folks, what’s shakin’? Not much here…HA!  I am crazy busy, and lovin’ it. But this isn’t about me, This is a goodbye.

    Monday, May 11, We lost a great man. His name was Robert Williams. I cannot say, that I am sad, although, I am saddened. I will miss Bob, because Bob was… just Bob. Let me clearly state, that, Bob would kick my behind, if he knew that I referred to him as “Great”, but, that was what made him so worthy of that adjective. He was, and will remain a hero to generations of people, from, soldiers, to transplant recipients, to his students and mentee’s, and most importantly to his wife and children.

    If you Mayo nurses recall, Bob was the guy who would call me up, day or night, and make me laugh, during some of the most scary, painful moments imaginable.  He was the alter ego to Sherrell, as they would collaborate, and implement the “good cop, bad cop” routine on me. Sherrell and I have shed many tears, in the last several days. Speaking for myself, though, they are mostly tears of rejoicing.

     Bob is home. He and I had a conversation, days before he died. He told me, that he is where he wanted to be spiritually, and, that his soul would be in heaven. I knew, that day, that, when we said goodbye, and hung up the phone, that, we had just had our final conversation. Typical Bob. I had called to offer comfort and support, and he did all of the talking, and I ended up being the one who was comforted.

    I am honored, that Bob, took such pleasure in knowing me. I don’t know what he saw in me, that peaked his interest, but I would imagine, that everyone who ever met him, felt special. That was his way. He would tell some incredible stories. Somehow, the listener would lose track of time and space. I read the commentary on his CaringBridge site, and the theme was repeated frequently…the stories he would tell.

    Now, Bob is sitting at the feet of the best storyteller ever. Bob, save me a seat. I pray it is a long time before we meet, but to you, now, it will be but a blink of an eye. I love you, Bob. You know that. Your family, even now, is drawing closer, to Sara. You have raised some beautiful children, and left a legacy, of family, friends, smiles, and of organ donation awareness. It is time to rest, now, Bob. Rest in Peace.

     Folks, please continue to pray, for Bob’s family.  I will visit again, soon. Much has happened since last time. I love you all.

      Howdy! I want to get right into this one, as everything is still fresh in my mind. But first things first. (Author takes a deep breath, followed by, a slow, satisfied exhale, please, join me…) Hi. How have you people been? So very much has happened since I last sat down to write you. So, where do I want to begin?

    The perfect place to begin, is to ask, that we all take some time, to pray for my good friend Bob. I am not going to say a lot, as, I haven’t asked his permission, but, he is in a fight, and he knows, he can’t do it alone. I spoke with him, on the phone, today, and he sounded really great, but he is just that way. So, let’s just say some prayers, and send some love his way. Get well soon, Bob. Now that your lakes are full, I want to come down, and teach you how, to quit foolin’ around with the bait, and catch the real fish.

     Okay, I really have to get ya’all up to date. I have been working my buns off. Oops, I just checked, and it seems as though, I have misspoken. Da’ booty is intact! Anyway, I have been working pretty hard. I have the honor of being the Camp Manager, at Jordan Park Camp. It is an incredible “job”, as, I get to take Mattie (A.K.A, the big nosed fat kid) to work with me every day. She has to be the luckiest dog in the world. I manage a 33 acre “oasis” in the middle of West Des Moines, IA.

      I got to meet, and work with, the most wonderful group of young adults, from the Minneapolis, MN area. They took on some of the most dirty, labor intensive, and downright hard, jobs I could offer, and with smiling faces, and a heart for God, got them done. I can’t wait, until they come back!  The Drake University crowd, as well as the teen groups also have been working tirelessly, getting ready for the Josh McDowell event coming to “Jordan Hall” this coming weekend. (April 3,4, and 5) I want to invite each and every one of you to come, and  hear him speak. I think it will be life changing for many people.

    I am going to be in an “Easter Drama”. LOL, yeah, ME! I have a small speaking part, and I portray “Joseph, of Arimathea” (the guy who gave the tomb that Jesus was buried in (but only for 3 days)) I have been practicing my lines, here goes… “I beg your pardon, Centurian, we have the governor’s permission”  “Certainly, I am Joseph, of Arimathea, and we have the governor’s permission, to remove the body (Jesus) for burial."  “(to Mary) I am so sorry…” and lastly, “Yes, and we can lay him in my tomb, anything I can do to help… anything”.  So, how did I do? I am sure Tammy, our lovely director is excited to know that, although I occasionally miss rehearsal, I actually do, know my lines.

    I also spoke, and shared my medical/spiritual testimony, at a men’s breakfast, this morning. (Saturday, 3/28) I was invited, to speak for 20-25 minutes. I thought that, I would not be able to speak for the whole time allotment, but God used me today. I spoke for nearly 45 minutes, and to my knowledge, nobody fell asleep. I prayed, before I started, for God to use my mouth, to deliver his message, and I strongly feel, that, he did so. I got emotional, several times, but, I got through it.

   Lastly, I have broken another rib! Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, I know, Gasp! Oh My, what is that idiot doing? Well, here it is. I don’t intend to sit around, and watch life pass me by, again. I am not reckless. I am not clumsy. This, latest incident, was just a simple accident. I had a split-second to decide. I was either to fall on my friend, who was already down, and having a hurting back, or push myself off to the left, and take my chances. So, I went to the left. I landed on my right side, and my elbow pushed into my ribs, and I heard a loud “Pop”  I will not deny, that, it hurts, but, all things considered, I stand by my decision.  However, next time, I am going to land on Jim, just for the sake of comparison… LOL!

    That is all for now. I really love you guys. Tomorrow is Sunday. Have a blessed day in Christ. Go to church. Pray for Bob, and, wash behind your ears! OH, and, yeah,  CALL YOUR MOM!    Mark.

     Hello, my dear friends. It seems that lately, I open with the phrase “it’s been awhile”. I have realized, though, that, that is not a bad thing. I have been doing something, that, I thought I might not ever get to do again. Living a healthy, active, wonderful life. I have several things to tell you, kind of like we are just chatting over the backyard fence.  So, freshen your cup of coffee, say a quick prayer of thanks to our wonderful God, and let’s catch up.

    Why, the prayer? you ask? If. I am not mistaken, you are reading this, which would indicate, that you woke up this morning. People don’t realize, just how big of a gift, that is. I, do… Sherrell, does. Bob, does. Jen, does. Deep down, I know you do. Am I special? I don’t know.  But, I will say, that, with all that has happened, YOU are. I have done so much soul searching, trying to find my way. I have thought, prayed, pondered, and pontificated. I do not have all of the answers. But, today, it hit me in a profound way.

     I listened to my own “chalk talk”. My daughter Jordan plays in a Christ centered basketball league, called Upward basketball. Every week, during halftime of each game, someone shares a testimony. It lasts three to five minutes. Today, I had the honor, of sharing a small part of my story. I shared, how, faith has gotten me to this point in my life. As I was talking, I looked at every face, looking back at me. That is when it hit me. I might have had the honor, of introducing one of those children, or their parents, or even their grandparents, to Jesus!  I referred to Psalm 34:4. (Please, look it up. this can wait…) As I read the word, I felt him stirring inside me. I teared up, with emotion, not, to the point of crying, but when your voice thickens, and your vision blurs. I know he used me today, and I am just so humbled.

    Can you feel it? Spring is getting closer. Okay, to those of you in Minnesota, I apologize. I realize, many of you read that statement, and began scratching your heads, looking at each other, and saying.. “It’s already July?” Okay, that was a rotten thing to do. Spring, in MN is a very unique season. My first spring, up there, was unforgettable. I heard a high pitched hum, and thought, “the angels are announcing the new season”. That is when one of the Mayo nurses slapped me on the back of the head, and said, “ya dummy! that humming is the migration of the Minnesota state bird.” Ever the curious minded, person, I asked, “and what, pray tell, is the name of the Minnesota state bird?” (I had to ask.. bad call) “Well, DUH! ya goofy gus, you, it is the mosquito!” (Insert groaning here, an indicator of a bad joke) That is why the phlebotomists at Mayo wear maroon scrubs. So us patients can distinguish them from the skeeters!

    Guys, I can honestly say, I am happy. I have the best “job” in the world. I get to have my morning coffee, at a 30-plus acre “oasis”, with a herd of 28 deer, dozens of squirrels, a few pain-in-the-butt racoons, and an awesome dog. My most stressful moment, each day, is trying to decide which boots to wear. I have about 5 pairs, left over from working jobs in years past. Mary thinks I have a “footwear fetish”, but I firmly believe, that having the proper footwear, for whatever the task is important. I have an office, to work from, tools, to accomplish my objectives, and Don and Jim, who are teaching me what it means to serve with a joyous spirit. I am blessed.

     Healthwise? I am doing well. I have a cough, right now, a remnant from a head cold, which is driving me nuts, but overall, I am well. Do you realize, that I got a new heart, August 1, and I am playing volleyball now? I am still amazed, when i think back, just a few short months ago, that I am still here, let alone, living a relatively normal life.

     Well, folks, I am gonna go lie next to my lovely wife, and drift off to blissful sleep. Thank you, for your faithfulness. By reading this, you are helping with my therapy. Rebuilding the body is much easier than mental rehab. Knowing that we all are praying for each other, in whatever way we go about it, is comforting. God bless, and I love you all.

                                                                                                                 Mark.

     Hey all, how ya been? I have been running around like… well, let’s be honest. I am almost 40, running is not one of my strong suits. That is how you can tell that the bicycle was invented by a more “mature” adult. At this age, we appreciate any exercise that can be done while sitting on our bottoms.

    I have been on Facebook lately, reconnecting with some of my high school classmates. Wow, talk about bringing back memories. Many of them have kids who are at the age we were when we knew each other. Where has time gone? As my more recent acquaintances will tell you “older” ones, I am not one to dwell on the past. I have no regrets. That is not to say, that, I didn’t make my share of stupid choices. But, here is the kicker… A little over 5 years ago, I gave my heart Jesus. That is the only choice that will ever really matter, in the end.  He cleaned me up, filled me with grace, and prepared me for the hell my body was about to endure.

    Today is a new day. I have a new heart, a new life, and a new outlook on who I am. I am still that same kid who used my gaseous emissions to cover for my insecurities. The late 80’s were a very awkward time for me. I suppose they were for all of us. I am one of the lucky ones, who grew up, but didn’t grow old. I love to laugh. I am always on the lookout for a way to make others laugh. The bottom line, is, I like me. I can now see my imperfection as an asset, not a liability.

    So, what is it, that causes one to wake up at 0200 and the mind to start reeling? I have a bunch of things going on at once, and I love it. But, why am I not asleep? When I woke up, the first thing I heard, was my heart. The second thing I heard, was my dog, Mattie, snoring. All is as it should be. All my girls are snoozing peacefully, even the cat, Tiger is sleeping on Mary’s backside. So what woke me up? Much like a computer, we sometimes need a reboot. I suppose, we all have those moments. I am just happy to be alive. Not in a mortal, or morbid sense, but, the simple feeling of being right here, right now.

      What do you think of when you hear the word “ordinary” or, “normal”? Here is how it is defined in the dictionary…

or·di·nar·y [ áwrd'n èrree ] unremarkable: not remarkable or special in any way, and therefore uninteresting and unimpressive

       Hi friends and loved ones. I hope you are all warm and enjoying the new year, half as much as I am. I have mentioned, before, that, my writing is transitioning more toward ordinary, normal, life. Boy! was I in for a surprise! I was “sick” for so long I forgot what those terms meant, when applied to my life. I have discovered, that, what was normal, in the past, isn’t what I want, in the present. I wouldn’t say, that, normal, in that sense, is, or was, a bad thing, but it simply isn’t MY thing. Now, that, about half of you are thinking, or even saying out loud, “what the Dickens is he talking about now?” I will get on to the message.

     I have loved sports, for as long as I can remember. Watching, playing, and even, dreaming up new and exciting sports to play on those endless, perfect, summer days, growing up in WV. (Yes, they were hot, and muggy, like they are now, but, when you are a kid, full of life, it doesn’t seem to matter all that much.)  So, for me, at least, “normal” will always involve sports.  Sport, however, generally requires the sportsman, to have a decent heart. I thought, that, on October 25, 2005, my lifelong love of playing sports, was gone, forever. It was quite a kick in the gut.

     Fast forward to this past Tuesday (Jan 13)…

     I played in a volleyball league for the first time in a long, long, time. Wednesday, I played one-on-one basketball, with my daughter Jordan. Friday, I went to “The Y” for a workout with Caitlyn.  It is a meaningful experience, for me, to be sure. But, picture the look in the eyes of my daughters, as they realized that, if even, only for a while longer, they have their daddy back. Whether it is basketball with Jordan, or biking/walking for miles, side-by-side with Caitlyn, I have the heart for sport. Good medicine, and an Awesome God, have given me a second chance, to figure out what “ordinary” is going to mean, in my life.

     I have given the subject some considerable thought, and this is what I have come up with.

     I want ordinary to mean, that, I will not be, nor, try to be, perfect. I want it to mean that when my girls goof up, they will be corrected by a firm, yet, loving hand. When I want to go work out, I can go work out, and, my only obstacle, will be laziness.  When it snows, I am the one pushing the snow blower. I want ordinary, to be, when Mary and I want to wrestle, we can do so, without worrying about yanking cords, or setting off alarms.  I want, normal to mean that, when I need to go upstairs, I don’t have to find the nearest elevator. Most of all, I just want normal, to be, whatever I want to accomplish.

     I think you get my point, or do you? Ordinary, is an inexact and unfair term. Who is to say that Mr. Webster (the dictionary guy) wasn’t a nutcase, whose idea of “ordinary”, was so skewed that, even my head would spin?   We all decide what our own ordinary is.  As I sit here and write this, I am shirtless. I look down upon my chest and abdomen, and count no less, than, fifteen surgical scars. Each one, beautiful, to me, because, each represents a battle, in my fight for “ordinary”. The thing is, if, God willing, I wake up tomorrow, I want “ordinary” to have a brand new meaning. and the next day, and the next, and the next…

    Define “ordinary”, and then, push the boundaries. But, please, let it be YOUR ordinary, not someone else’s. We don’t all get second chances. God made us in HIS image, not the guy next to us.

    Quick, someone send me a plane ticket! I don’t care where, as long as there is actual open water (Not the frozen kind). I want to wear short sleeves, and shorts. I want to hear all the ladies giggle, and say “oh my, look at those chicken legs!” I want to hear that distinct “PLUNK” that can only be made as a slip sinker hits the calm water, dragging the animated bait to a pre-set depth. I want to hear the whisper of monofilament, slicing through the ripples,j as the bait is devoured, by an unwitting largemouth. I want to feel that first tentative tug of the fish as he decides whether, or not, he wants to eat my offered bait. I can’t wait, to feel that hook set, that, signifies to all involved or watching that a challenge has been issued between man and fish, and the fight is on. I want to know, that, for that brief moment in time, I am doing battle with one of God’s finest creations. I want to hold that fish with my thumb in his mouth, and my forefinger on the outside, and feel the rush that only comes when you realize, that, you are about to decide the future of another living, breathing, creature. I want to watch that beautifully colored fish slip back below the surface of the placid water, knowing, that, my decision will bring the same joy to another little boy or girl, or whomever catches him next time.

     Will it be his or her first fish? Will it be the final trophy for a dying man, who wants to catch one last fish before meeting God face to face? Will it be the next meal for the mom or dad who can no longer afford beef? or chicken? What stories will be told with that single fish as the main character? What if I had kept and eaten that fish? Would I be wrong? Would I be depriving the next guy of the experience? Would I grin inwardly? Knowing that my great friends James P. or Bob W. would not have caught him anyway?

     Do the fish in Georgia have a southern accent? Do the teenage fish tease the smaller ones, by saying stuff like “I’ll bet you can’t eat than worm in one bite” and laugh hysterically when the poor sucker is yanked violently to the water’s surface? Do they put shaving cream, or toothpaste onto the fins of the first one to fall asleep, and tickle his nose so that he covers himself with humiliation when he slaps at the disturbance? Do they dream of meeting Bill Dance, Roland Martin, of Jimmy Houston? Do they have that awkward silence, followed by nervous laughter, when suddenly there is an extra air bubble in the water? Did every female reader just roll her eyes?

     IT IS JANUARY 8th. IT IS COLD. THE WATER IS ALL FROZEN. AND… I AIN’T GONNA GET TO FISH UNTIL AT LEAST LATE MARCH! Ironically enough, exactly one year ago today, Doctors at the Mayo Clinic implanted an LVAD in my heart. What a difference a year makes. A year ago, I was fighting to stay alive. Today, I am whining because I want to go fishing. It is a good problem to have, isn’t it? What do you want to do today?

     God is knocking. Answer the door.

     Hey everyone, it is official! I survived 2008! If you won money on my survival, good for you. If you lost money… OH NO YOU DIDN’T!!! I am not going to put ‘08 in the books as a “bad” year, and here, in my humble opinion, is why…

     At last check, (and, yes, I take my vitals at least twice a day) I am still very much alive. I am still the proud father of two darling, Christian girls. My lovely wife has not changed the locks on the house yet. And… I have the worlds cutest puppy! I can walk for miles at a time. I can skip the elevator, and take the stairs. I can go outside in the rain. I can take a shower. I can go to church on a regular basis. I can help Doug install a dishwasher. I can jump up, go jump in the truck, and go somewhere, without making sure I have enough LVAD batteries. I CAN…

    We take life for granted. I am guilty just as much as you. I constantly remind myself, “hmmmmm, a year ago, I couldn’t do this…”  I went with my family to a hotel for New Year’s, and sat in a hot tub, I couldn’t have done that a year ago.

    You know, I had pretty much stopped writing, because I didn’t think I had anything interesting to say, anymore. I almost let a new heart change who I am. I guess, that, writing a blog isn’t so much about me, as it is, about you taking 5 minutes, to look at someone else’s life. It really is an interesting life. Please don’t see that as arrogance, but it is interesting. Several of you say things about yourself on MySpace, Facebook, and  other forums for “putting yourself out there”. You update your status, change your moods, and share with us all. My point is this… Every life is interesting. I am able to use words, to tell a story, but, the words don’t MAKE the story. The story is made by the life that is in it.

    I am going to write much more. I want  to make you laugh, but, most of all, I want you to know, that I am okay. My new life is nowhere near perfect. I am not cured. But, I am not sick anymore. I look forward to each tomorrow. I don’t sit and ponder what I should have done yesterday to make it better. Yesterday is gone… remember it, but, don’t dwell on it. Make it your story. Tomorrow is Sunday. We will go to church, and worship the Same Jesus. We will probably sit in the same pew as always. Sing the same hymns.  Ask yourself this question… Why, after over 2000 years, is his story still so interesting? The answer is so very simple… He is still alive, and, life is interesting.

     Question??? Why do we eat like hogs and still call it "Turkey Day"?  It is one of many questions bouncing around in my head. Thanksgiving day came and went Thursday,  The Dallas Cowboys  delivered their traditional Spanksgiving feast to the Seattle Seahawks. (What the heck is a Seahawk  anyway???)  I personally have never seen one, and I have actually been to Seattle. Yes, that is another rhetorical question. Thursday was never meant to be the gluttonous gutbusting occasion we have turned it into. It was about us thanking a people who had little, yet, gave their knowledge and skills to a starving people who never would have survived that first winter without their help. Have you heard this story?

     My little Iowa family sits around the table talking briefly about what we are thankful for. Family, food on the table, the new puppy, daddy's heart... you know what I mean. Please don't view that as a flippant remark, I am getting to  the good stuff soon. I would be remiss if I didn't  take the time to care, and write what you are about to read...

Will you give me your heart?

October 25, 2005,

Stay with me Mark,

He's barely alive.

If we don't get him there,

he will not survive.

I'm sorry Mary,

He probably won't make it.

His heart is destroyed,

his body can't take it.

He's fat and a smoker,

he did this himself.

There is little or nothing,

we can do to help.

We shocked him often,

to help him restart,

but at the end of the day,

he'll need a new heart.

Drugs and machines,

will sustain him, till then.

But the match will be hard,

He's such a big man.

August 1st, 2008,

the phone finally rings,

we all celebrate!

A new lease on life,

a family in grief 

looked past their great loss, through much pain and  strife.

to donate his organs,

thus, saving my life.

   I have written this with the utmost Thanksgiving in my heart. I can only hope to someday meet my donor family. To thank the family who donated those organs through tears of pain and loss. Every day I wake I say "Thank You". First to my best friend God, who filled up my heart. Second to Mary and the girls, whose lives have been on hold. To my donor, who left behind a family in pain. To all those who prayed for us, and all those who helped, with sage advice, tough love, and physical help. To the doctors who would not give up, let alone let me quit. I have so very much to be thankful for, not only this year, but, each day God gives me, beyond that day in August, that a new healthy heart beats in my chest. That feeling is second , only,  to the day that I asked God into my heart and he embraced me with love, and swaddled me with his grace.

    Thank you, and God bless you. I am thankful to you all,

     Hey everybody, how are you? You know, the last time we spoke, I was looking for direction and guidance. WOW! Did I get it??? Several of you responded with anything from "Get your head out of your ...." to praying for and with me. I sat back for several weeks, and really sought God's will through prayer. I am truly pleased to inform you, that I am moving forward with my writing. Last night I was told that some of my blogs were forwarded to friends of friends who needed inspiration. That is not the first time that I have been told that. I don't believe in coincidence (wow, I spelled that correctly, and it only took two tries!) so I imagine that I have been given my answer. I think I was being a little selfish. Here is the thing.

     When you deal with devastating, or even terminal health issues, your mind set changes. Some become depressed. Some become bitter, some are downright scared. But in my case, and, I suspect countless others, there is a sense of hope, and anticipation also. Despite all of the advice I received over the course of the illness, I lay thinking, as they were putting me to sleep for the transplant surgery, that when I awakened, I would be healed. The first transplant doctor Mary and I met told us that "Transplant does not fix all your problems, it is just a different, and better set of problems." That is very true. Please don't think I am not elated to be where I am, I am truly happy and grateful. When I woke up, I was still me. The only thing that had changed was, well, everything. My body was swollen to the point that I barely recognized my reflection in the mirror. My legs, ankles, and feet were shapeless, painful, and full of water. My gut hurt, and I couldn't breathe. Perhaps, most terrifying of all, I was nearly blind. It was so scary, one of my most favorite nurses in the whole wide world (yes, Holly, that would be you) came to see me, in CICU, and I could only recognize her by the shape of her hairstyle. Then, there is the mental side...

     For almost eight months, I had an LVAD humming in my chest, and a pacemaker making my heart squeeze. In essence, a safety net. All of that was gone, and had been replaced by this huge THUMP THUMP THUMP in my chest. I don't know, you just feel different. My mind played many cruel tricks on me during my dream states and I frequently awakened at night fearful and disoriented. Every little cough, sneeze, or gaseous emission left me wondering if I had damaged something, or if something was out of the ordinary. In essence, I put myself through a bitter personal hell, while God stood by my side imploring me to give it all to him. I went into a tailspin, and began backsliding spiritually because, when physically, and mentally at my weakest point, I tried to be strong and brave. My new life became hollow and empty, because, while my faith in God remained, it had stopped growing. I made the classic mistake and became complacent. I had my new heart. I was satisfied.

     Folks, I am not writing this to sound bitter. I am closing a chapter, and starting a new one. When I wrote those things to encourage and inspire you, I meant them. But, I needed every card and letter, and prayer that each of you sent to me, and for me. That is where, as I mentioned before, I had become selfish. Now I lay it to rest.

    The next chapter...

    I love my new life. The pain is gone. My vision has returned. I have energy. There are many more good days then bad days. I feel great. I can be a part of my family again. I am home for good. And I have a heart that is built like a FORD truck! Better than all of that, my faith is growing again. I even asked you guys if continuing to write was worth it. Well, YEAH. Even if you don't read it, which I hope you do, I really want to write it. In many ways, this is a great avenue of worship. When I write about God, I feel a sense of, not power, but empowerment. There is a large difference. It is his spirit making me stronger. That feeling helps me to feel like my faith is, indeed, growing. I still have a long way to go, but to get somewhere, sometimes you have to stop and ask for directions.

     God, I thank you for your love and patience. I thank you for the love and patience of my friends and family. I thank you for teaching me the lessons learned while waiting for the new heart. God, I thank you most of all for being that one set of footprints in the sand as evidence that you carried me. God, I thank you for my brothers, Phil, John, Keith, and my sister Melissa. God I thank you for Mom. I thank you for Mary, Jordan, and Caitlyn. (yes, you too Pat) Thank you for Bob and Sherrell. Thank you for all of the nurses and doctors that have treated me with compassion, and even tough love. Thank you for pastors. Thank you for every person who will read this, roll their eyes, and dismiss me as a religious, weak nut. God, you are my strength, not my weakness, and, for that, I am grateful. When I get home, I can't wait to give you a great big hug, but that can wait awhile, cant it?

     Amen.

     I love you guys. We will talk soon.

     Mark.

     Hey, all. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, I've been MIA for awhile. Sorry, about that, but I am at a difficult crossroads in my life. It is not that I am trying to solve the world's problems, or even whom to vote for in the election. It is much smaller than that, yet, much bigger to me. Hence, the title...

     Where do I go from here? Do I close the chapter on the old heart? Do I simply continue the story? Have I pretty much said all there is to say? If you do choose to respond to this, don't blow smoke. I don't need attention, I want to contribute to the future. How best can I accomplish that? If you can't respond, can you at least pray for God to give me direction? To be completely honest, my everyday life is pretty boring. After being "sick" for the last three years, a little boredom is not the worst thing that could happen. The fact is, God has played such a central role in my life, and, I need to grow even closer to him.

     Sadly, though, that is not the case. Since the transplant, I have struggled with my faith. I know, it sounds so silly. I know, that he brought me through what was easily the roughest time of my life. I know that he is real, and that he is waiting for me in heaven. So why am I fighting what I KNOW to be right? What is holding me back? Please don't state the obvious. I know that every day is a struggle against the devil. I know that he can get into my head, and play games with my faith. What I don't know, is, how do I let go? How do I "take my hands off the wheel"? I can sling cliche's with the best of them, and, as I previously stated, I DO believe what I say. I just do not know how to not be afraid. I WANT to give my life completely to God, but how do I do that? Many of you are pastors, and men and women of great faith, so  I am taking the advice of Jesus, and "seeking the council of my elders."

     I am excited to say to you all, that my time in MN has ended. I will  continue to go up there for appointment.  It will be once a month at first, then, once every three months, and eventually once a year. It is kind of like being a kindergartner (yes it is spelled correctly) on that first day. There are no mechanical devices in my body to bail me out if I get into trouble. The safety net is gone. I have anticipated this, since this whole process began, but it is so surreal that but now it is finally here. I am not going home on a weekend pass, or for a visit, but to continue my life. I don't want to go back to my old lifestyle. I have been given something that most people never receive. A second chance.  "Life is not about the destination. It is about the journey."

     Tomorrow, I will travel to Rochester for a full day of appointments on Tuesday, beginning with my RV biopsy. (RV is not a reference to my camper, it means right ventricle.) I will be heading up there tomorrow (Monday) afternoon, and spending the evening in a hotel room. I just can't believe that we have made it to this point. Tuesday will bring my final release, assuming all goes well. Then, it is back home, with no more excuses. It is time to re-start life. Where does this road lead???

    God bless, and I love you folks.

Isaiah 43:11-12
"I, even I, am the Lord, and apart from me there is no savior. I have revealed and saved and proclaimed -- I, and not some foreign God among you. You are my witnesses," declares the Lord, "that I am God."

     Yesterday, I had the perfect opportunity to witness to someone who I thought needed salvation. I had just come from the operating room where I had an Angiogram, a biopsy (Scored another "0" rejection), and an intraveinous ultrasound", when I saw a guy and thought, "this guy could benefit from hearing about the lord."  How arrogant of me! His "look" was that of a shaved bald, earring wearing man, with tattoos. I jumped right in talking about how God had saved me and the medical miracles he had placed in my life. He politely nodded his head as I made my "pitch" and I was becoming bolder by the second. There was another nurse in the room, and I thought maybe I would get a "twofer". How arrogant of me!

    He kindly began telling me what his tattoos meant. You see it was Tweety (his nickname) smiling in his cage, safely, with a golden chain leading to nowhere. Then beside that was Sylvester trying to get at him as usual. (his tail happened to be on fire) He patiently said to me, "Sylvester here, with his tail on fire, represents Satan, trying to get that soul inside that golden cage." Tweety is us, inside that protective place (salvation) and fully safe. The chain on the cage goes into heaven to show that I am anchored to heaven, and it cannot be broken"

      I think I began my witness because I arrogantly thought that I could get extra credit in heaven by "saving" this wayward soul, and ended it by realizing that I had sinned against God by judging that man under the guise of doing the lord's work. I have been changed yet again. for the better. Praise God!

     That was a short letter I wrote to a sister in Christ, and thought I should share it with all. I think it pretty much explains itself while teaching a lesson we learned when we were very young. Didn't we? NEVER JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER! Is there a chance, that I maybe missed that day? Did I not judge this man and say "this man needs to hear about God"? What do you suppose he thought about me? I have tattoos, a goatee, ETC. Do I LOOK like a Christian? What exactly does a Christian look like?

     This beautiful Christian lady told me that maybe we were BOTH there with our flawed (by the standards of some) appearances to witness to the other nurse who was in the room. Wow! Do you see how we all fit together to form the body of Christ? We all play a part, and none is more important than another.

     Now for the medical news. All is good, Goodbye, turn out the lights on your way out. See ya all later....

     Okay, okay, you want details. I'll be brief. because most of you are reading this at "work" (in lieu of actually working) Yeah, I know about that. Here Goes. All of my test have ruled out most of everything. The spot on my lung has disappeared, and I Don't appear to have any cancer from my head to my toes. They think that maybe I have some sleep apnea, and some minor heart issue that could hamper breathing. Nothing to get worried about. So far all the news has been very good, and I continue to feel pretty well.

     Yesterday, I had an appointment for what I thought would be another routine biopsy. Boy! was I wrong! I returned home with, at my best count, 5 holes that I am pretty sure I didn't have when I left the camper yesterday morning. They had neglected to inform me that not only would I have a biopsy, I would be treated to an Angiogram, and an intraveinous ultrasound as a bonus prize. HUH? It is funny, they tell me this after I am pretty much committed to being there for awhile. I really don't mind, so much, because they are thourough, and when I leave here, there will be no stone left unturned. I will have a clean bill of health, and that is important. So today, I am sharing this with you, with an agitated heart (which is normal for the day after) and a thankful soul for the spiritual, and medical revelations from yesterday. So far, all is well, and as always, GOD IS GOOD!

    Have a great day, and next time Open that book, there might just be something beautiful inside. God Bless, and all my love.

                                                                                                                                                                Mark

     Hey friends, family, and anyone in between, how are you? I know, I know, it has been over two weeks since I have visited with you, and I will share my reason shortly. The fact is, since I last wrote not much has happened, but it has been very stressful, nonetheless.

     Everything had been going so well. No rejection through 4 biopsies (five now) and rehab was, and is going great. I have been feeling great, and becoming more and more physically active. I can feel new life coursing through my veins. I even got to come home to visit my church family. So, you ask, where is the stress in that?

     Each time I have blood drawn for lab work, I also have a chest x-ray. Well, about two weeks ago, now, a spot was found to have developed on my right lung. UH OH!  The stressful part of the whole thing is that that piece of news was delivered by (this is only my personal opinion) a person who is completely unqualified to be interacting with patients. It was delivered with insensitivity and a complete lack of compassion. I was given a "worst case" scenario, of what it could be and that the docs would like to get a CT scan ASAP.  I try to not hate people, and even try to understand cultural differences. I really don't hate this person, I just feel that not everyone has what it takes to interact with others, especially, when it comes to delivering news that could change a person's life.

     Some or even most, of the people reading this are in the medical profession, or personally involved in the transplant process. Having said that, it is a fact that after the physical trauma of the transplant, there is emotional trauma that has to be dealt with. There are so very many emotions that have to be dealt with in order to live at peace with the wonderful gift of the life we have been afforded. There is the extreme elation that comes with the organ, the promise of a healthier future that comes with it. There is the sadness that is inevitable, for the donor and his/her family, and their loss. There is the issue of knowing that your life will never be the same, as "normal" takes on a new definition. Even the most well balanced person is bound to have an adjustment period. I described all of that, to say this. It is a time when emotions are highly charged, and fueled by prednisone, which turns some of us into irritable, emotional crazies looking for a time and place to snap. So needless to say, any questionable news is going to have an adverse effect on a person in my state of mind. (don't go there)

    I did a lot of worrying, praying, and not telling anyone what was going on. Not to be brave, but because I didn't have any idea of what to say? The doctors say the spot is too small to be concerned about. If it is bad, it has been caught incredibly early. In all probability, though, it is nothing to be concerned about, my excellent doctors aren't concerned, and they tell me not to be concerned either.

     I didn't just sit on the news. I talked with my family, some close friends, and my transplant mentors in Georgia. I even went to the transplant center and demanded a moment of one of the transplant cardiologist's time (which was willingly given).  But, as my "mother in Georgia" said to me...(talk about your tough love :) ) I gave it to God for about 5 minutes, and took it right back.

     We quote scripture and verse, to comfort others, but when it is us in the hot seat, we want to do the worrying ourselves. She lovingly told me to put it on the altar, and leave it there! So I shall.

    You are up to speed, and I will keep you posted on everything in the future. I have another CT scan on October, 2 to evaluate whether or not it has grown or changed in the last two weeks. When I know, you will know. In the meantime, I have appointments Tuesday for labwork, and other routine stuff. Don't be surprised if you hear from me again in the next couple of days, as I get back into my regular format of good times, bad jokes, and spiritual sharing. Feel free to tell me how selfish I have been by not asking for prayer over this situation, as I made a decision for you all that I had no right to. We are all family, and that has to include both, the good, and the bad. So please pray for me, and my family, as I enter my last month of rehab in Rochester. God bless, you all. I love you all.

      I do have a special request. I have a heart friend who has been a great source of laughter and encouragement to me throughout all of this. I have not requested permission to use a name, but God knows all about this person. I am asking for urgent prayer as some problems have arisen and are causing the new heart to not be allowed to function to its full potential. I ask that anytime you pray for me and my family, you include this person as a part of that prayer. God hears prayers, I am living proof of that. Join me in lifting my friend up, please, and thank you.

    Howdy buds, and how are you? I am doing well. Tuesday's biopsy results were revealed to me on Wednesday. All of my blood tests were normal, I continue to lose weight, and thrive. Oh, yeah, the biopsy results...another ZERO. Praise God. He's so good to me. (that is a hymn) But wait, there is more! I am sitting at my house in Des Moines right now. Yep! you heard me right. The doctor decided that since things are looking so well, that, I could go home for the weekend. He also cleared me to drive. I took full advantage of his momentary lapse of reason (a pink floyd album) and skedaddled. Mary drove to the Iowa state line, and I took over from there, completing the trip home. Actually, he told us on Wednesday that I could come home, but we stayed an extra day to squeeze in another cardiac rehab session. I did a cardiovascular ride on the stationary bike, and did 6.5 miles in 30 minutes. I continue to feel God's blessing as he heals my body, and strengthens my faith.

     We learn a lot about ourselves, by looking back. But, we cannot live in the past. Take a look, enjoy the memories, learn your lesson, and grow. If you will permit me, I want to briefly share what I learned about myself.

     I am a strong man. What makes me strong? People like you, the readers, who have sent warm wishes, prayer, and top notch medical care.

     I am a weak man. I allowed my condition to shake my faith at times, to the point of questioning God's plan for me. As time continued marching on, and I grew sicker, and weaker toward the end, I asked God, "why would you let my daughters grow up without a father, as I had to do?" I tried to bargain with him. "God, if you let me live, I will go out and witness to all, on your great miracle in my life." All the while, I continued to write about how everything had to be in HIS timing, which is perfect, not mine. I believed what I wrote, but I questioned if his plan was to call me home, rather than heal me. After all, as a Christian, I believe that even death is the ultimate form of healing. But I didn't WANT to die. I wanted to live! Why is it fair, that people who don't even acknowledge God receive the gift of life? "Be still, my son, and wait!" I wanted to not only be healed, but to remain here on Earth. "Be still, my son, and wait."There is only one problem with that... it was MY will. "know that I love you, and your family, your friends, and the people you are going to introduce to me in the future." He has it all planned out. He knows what he wants to do in, not only my life, but the lives of everyone. "I knew you before you were born."

     He has been there the whole time. That is why I look back. God is right here in front of us all, but sometimes we have to look BACK to actually see him. But here is the kicker...Faith teaches us to believe in what we cannot see. I say this, though, If you cannot see God everywhere, you simply aren't looking. We are looking for a man, who looks like us. We are not looking for the birds. Perfectly made for the task of their lives. The trees, and plants, every one of them serving a different, but nonetheless perfect role in nature. Still don't see him? Look in the mirror. Not at yourself, but the eyes you are looking through. Evolution? The human eye could never have evolved to it's present function in the time of human existence. Google the human eye, and prepare to be astounded. God is everywhere. If we evolved from apes, why are there still apes?  Why monkey around with creation? I respect your opinion, but I have the distinct advantage of having met God. I have never met an ape.

     I am not an authority, or an expert. I have never been on a dig, where an ancient man was unearthed, and proves that we actually are monkeys. I am simply sharing my belief. I believe a perfect God, with a perfect plan, in perfect time, created, in me, a perfect miracle. He healed me, and then he sent me a new heart.

    God bless, and all my love to each of you.

                                                          Mark

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     Hey ya'all, how are you? I am doing quite well, thank you. I am feeling pretty good these  days, and walking a lot. I wanted to share the photo above, and am not sure who has seen it. I am not sure if I have published this before or not, but my address here in MN is:

Mark McGrew

campsite number 15

P.O. box 297

Oronoco, MN 55960

     Some have asked where to send correspondence, and since I will be up here for at least 2 more months, this is where you will find me. I will repost my home address about two weeks before I leave here, so everything will roll back over to my home address.

     I had written a blog last night, but somehow I hit a wrong key and lost it all before it could be published. Thank God my mother in law was here. She narrowly prevented me from screaming out the words that come with losing an hour's worth of work, and wit. I settled for "oh you gotta be kidding me"

     Getting to the title... I have a frequent visitor to my campsite.  A SKUNK! The little stinker must be looking for love or something, because when he/she has been around, my eyes water. Maybe soon he will meet the right little skunkette, settle down, and learn how to tune out 90% of what she has to say. If he's lucky. Then again maybe she will appreciate him for making a home for her and provide for her and the kids as well as he can. (that was a joke, he'll never compare to her daddy) Maybe he is already "hooked up" and just needs a break. In that case he is welcome to come around once in awhile. (disclaimer. The comments on the skunk are purely jokes. They do not make reference to anything, anyone, nor do they carry any malice. It is only for the laughs)

    Well, I got the results back from my second biopsy. I scored another "zero" (zero sign of rejection) WOO HOO! All of my blood tests indicate that things are going really well. My weight is dropping, and my blood sugars are beginning to regulate. I am striving to get off of the insulin. It may take some time, but now, I have time, so it is a goal. Hey, Did I mention that today is day 27? Tomorrow will be the completion of week 4!  How cool is that? What God has brought us through is just so humbling. I still can't wrap my mind around what he has done here. It is small in comparison to creating all that we are and know in a weeks time, so I don't guess helping a guy get a new heart is much of a challenge, but wow, all the same. To be individually touched by the hand of God. I will leave you to think about that. Think about when you were (not might have been) touched by the hand of God. Feel the comfort all over again. As always, I love you all. Til' next time.

                                                                                                    mark

     Hey good friends.

     It has never been my habit to read my old blogs, and relive the past. That is not a tradition I am going to begin now. It has, however, occurred to me that we have been through a rough patch together, and I might not have been as upbeat as you deserve to read. So I dedicate this writing to the sharing of great news, a great Big God, and you. My best friends.

     I cannot say anything more appropriate to start this than "PRAISE THE LORD!" I have had this new heart for almost 20 days now. It seems to work pretty well. My EF, at last check was 58%, or pretty much normal for a human being! God is so good! I wish I had real teeth, so I could smile for all it's worth. My pain is mostly gone already, again, Praise God. I am doing very well with my medicines and the immunosupressants  that will be with me for the rest of my life. I have a cherubic, round, red face, from the steroid I am taking, which causes me to do a "double-take" each time I see that stranger in the mirror. I laugh, because, I live! I know there are no guarantees from here on out, but I didn't expect to get this far, so this is all gravy as far as I am concerned.

    More great news. I got my first biopsy results back today... Drumroll please!... I scored a "0"! Zero signs of organ rejection! Oh praise you God!. Folks if you feel halfway decent when your feet hit the floor for the day, I need you to be praising almighty God. I cannot tell you, how alive I feel. Every sensation is alive and firing. (Yes even the gas tank seems full. (sorry)) How can we have come through this without a desire to glorify the "Great I Am". I am not afraid of "jinxing" it by saying "I feel great!" I feel such an intensity of love, happiness, friendship, faith, trust, you name it, it is all about to burst. I have been showered with cards and gifts, and phone calls, from so many of you, that I know I am truly never alone. My life has turned back on track, and we are on the express train to whatever and wherever it goes. Mary had to take off for a couple of days to put the girls back into school, and I am anticipating her return Friday evening. For now, a great family friend, Doug Wicker, is staying with me, and driving me to town on those clandestine runs to Wendy's for a chocolate frosty.(for medicinal purposes, mind you)

     My life is a thing of beauty. I am not writing all this so you can be happy for me, I want you to find hope in my words. Many of us suffering, are looking for that hope, and It would not serve God, if I just took my share and walked away. I have struggled since the transplant, trying to decide just how "happy" to be, and not hurt the hope of others. DUH! I waited a long time, and gained faith through your triumphs and tragedies, and every instance made my faith stronger. I dealt with life and death every bit as real as it gets, and became stronger. Please, use me to strengthen you. You are special too, and good or bad, The answers are waiting for you. If it is not the answer we are seeking, it is because we are not seeking his answer. Guys, remember, life can get better, even as it seems to get worse. My donor was being given his/her chances to accept the lord, or even to say what needed to be said, and whether or not that happened, is not for me to know. I wouldn't want to be a part of rushing that.

     I want to encourage you, as I close, to bow your head, find something, anything, to say to God, and say it. If your heart is hurting, start the healing process. If you have a loved one in need of God's love, pray for them. If you are thankful for something, then scream it out, and wake the neighbors up! God never left, he is still in out hearts, our courthouses, our schools, everywhere. Jesus died for us, the very least we can do is stand up for him!  I truly love you all, and cannot wait to speak with you again. Until then, my prayers are with each one of you. God bless.

                                                                                                                               Mark