How will I choose to view this?

Today is the day. It is a day of closure, and a day of new beginnings. It is a day, that in some ways, I have dreaded for the past 2 months. Once again, this new journey I am on has intersected with my hopes, my plans, my dreams, and my future, and it has dictated a decision. Today, I must say goodbye to one more thing.

For 35 years, I have been part of a ministry. A small Christian school, just south of Nashville. As a 10-year-old boy, I first walked upon this campus, and joined Mrs. Williams’ 5th grade class (still to this day, one of my favorite teachers). I met my best friend, Gerald, and I became part of a something that forever changed me.

Few things have impacted me as much as this small school. My first job was helping in the afternoons in the preschool and working in summer day camp. When I met my wife at college, I told her that this was where I was going to teach, and over 20 years ago, I began as a 2nd grade teacher. Now, 35 years later, I sit behind my desk, now the Elementary Principal, in the same building I started in, realizing that I have to say goodbye. 

Being a teacher and a principal was all I ever dreamed of doing. I thought this would be my one and only job, or as my son said, “I thought you would die there”. (thanks RJ  ) But unbeknownst to me, God had other plans and designs for my life. In the years leading up to my diagnosis, I could not keep up, and even after treatment began, days were hard. The spirit was willing, but my flesh was weak, and little by little, I realized, that I just could not keep up – I was drowning. 

Once again, Parkinson’s was forcing me to make a choice. God and I argued about this for some time. Spoiler alert – He was right, and He won. At the same time, new ministry opportunities were opening up, and God was allowing me to help others walking through struggles. My battle with Parkinson’s was opening doors, and helping me find ways to encourage others in their fight, and I found myself at a crossroads. My friend called me and asked me to come work for him and help him in his business (that friend I met my first day at Lighthouse). 

A choice was set before me – one I did not want to make, but one I had to. Once again, Parkinson’s required me to choose my future, but that was not the only choice set before me. Bitterness, excitement, anger, hope, sadness, joy, frustration, peace – on and on the list could go. As these feelings and emotions warred within me, it came down to a simple question – “How would I view this?” What would I focus on? 

Would I focus on the unfairness of my lot? Would I dwell on the frustration this disease and choice brought? Would I live in self-pity? Or, would I see the new beginning? Would I focus on the peace and excitement of a new adventure? Would I celebrate all God was doing in me and in the school I love? Would I celebrate the exciting new path that both I and this ministry I love were on.

Have there been tears? Yes, but there has also been laughter. Have there been doubts? Yes, but there has also be peace. Do I hate to let go? Yes, but I am excited for who I am giving this too. Yes, there may be sorrow, but even more, there is hope. Hope for not only what He is leading me to, but also for what I see Him already doing in this ministry.

Today, that is where I find myself. Sad to say goodbye, but full of hope, not only for myself, but also for the future of this little Christian school, that God will continue to use to impact so many for future generations. He is good, He is good.

To my Lighthouse Family – thank you. For 35 years you have blessed me, impacted me, and helped make me who I am today. “Thank you” just does not express all you mean to me. These past few months, I see God beginning a fresh, new work, and I see bright days ahead. God is doing amazing things, and I cannot wait to see all He has planned for this little Christian School. I love you, am so thankful for the impact you have made on me, and so excited to see the path he has for you and for me.

That, more than anything else, is how I choose to see this transition, I have hope, for He is good.