ELLER|RUNSTRONG

No, this reference does not include a high-pitched mouse dressed in overalls, but does fall right in line with the joy and excitement one feels as they enter the gates of the Magic Kingdom….

You see, the last few years of life have provided many opportunities and ideas and dreams about what I want to do when I grow up. And I found it. Helping others. This compassionate mindset has been present within my core ever since I can remember. Being friends with those struggling for friends in elementary. Helping out a homeless stranger on the streets of San Antonio. Sitting on the mound of dirt outside a late night lockin with a 6th grade boy crying over hurtful words. Sitting with friends who have faced the reality of the pains of life. Standing the gap late at night in the NICU. And being present with those struggling through some tough stuff.  As much as the despair bothers me, it also creates a willingness to share in that suffering.

In 2008, I graduated with my masters degree, a job, and an interest in finding out more how horses can be used in therapy.
Who would have thought it would bring me here.  The front page of ACU’s website.

It’s hard to describe how this type of therapy works. People look at you strange and wonder. Maybe a hint of jealousy within, but also a hint of interest, because they know that horses are awesome. They’ve been there, in the moments of despair and hopelessness, walking out to the barn to be with their best friend. They’ve seen how those quiet moments in the field with nothing more than an attentive ear and a story can bring a renewed outlook to life.

Now, I’ve been able to be part of providing a sacred space for those seeking to learn about themselves, to grow in relationships, to alter choices for better living, and to bring about an opportunity to change. And I couldn’t have done it without Dusty, Roanie, Sierra, Gus, Mist, Heiffer, Red(Shorty), Hissie & Nellie, my family and our GOD.

So tomorrow will mark a point in time that I have remembered, celebrated, hated, loved, appreciated, and cheered for the last 25 years.  That’s right. Twenty-Five Years!

It was in 1986, I went to Dr. Boland to see about this weight loss thing, and great thirst taking place.  Well, maybe mom took me, because I really didn’t know much as a 12 year old. I guess you could say it wasn’t too bad, or he had the empathy to give me the choice to either go right now to the hospital or have my parents take me the next morning. Duh! We’ll go tomorrow.

Diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. The only introduction I had to that was a TV show I saw earlier that summer where I guy was in the hospital talking about how thirsty he had been when he got diabetes and I told mom that I though I had diabetes too.  Of course, it was a hot summer going to Iron Springs Christian Camp and learning that I needed to start wearing deodorant. Anyway  1986 was a very memorable year.

Then it was 1992, this weekend exactly, a Freshman at ACU with Freshman Follies weekend opening.  Mom had drove to town to visit.  And it was Saturday morning. I left Mabee dorm to meet her at the Kettle, but never made it there. It’s still hard to figure out how in the world I ended up where I did.  How far I drove without the cognitive ability to remember.  But I do recall the decision to make a u-turn in the road because it seemed the tunnel vision was getting smaller and smaller as if I were driving through a pin hole in the road.  I made the turn, missed the edge of the bridge by a few feet, and drove through a field into a ditch of mesquite trees.  I stepped on the gas, attempting to move forward, but it didn’t budge.  Most of this I don’t recall until I got out of my truck, dropped my keys, cussed the sky, and had the adrenaline rush of the LORD push me forward.  I later marked off the 1 mile journey back up EN.10th to the Judge Ely Exxon Station to get myself a 48oz Dr.Pepper and KingSize Snicker bar.  I called mom, and she showed up. The rest is history. But even after all that sugar, my BS was 48. Did you know you can live with a BS of 0?  God uses even those with nothing to bring him glory.

Then it was 2007.  I got the phone call from Dad telling me my good friend CarylFry had died. September 25th. And I was signed up to run my first 10k at the Abilene Balloon Fest that Saturday, that I flew back to First Colony to honor, love, remember, and speak words of truth during her service. A good friend. Not many of those left these days. But I cherish the few who have blessed my life as Good Friends.

And now. 2011. 25 years after being diagnosed with this daily condition of making choices. There are no days off to not take a shot. Change my insulin pump. Take my blood sugar. Without complications from ignoring. 19 years after I almost died in a field in Abilene, Texas.  4 years after I lost my good friend and sister in Christ, and diabetes Caryl Fry. And 1 more day of waking with the LOVE of Jesus beating throughout my LIFE.  For it is today  I live.

And tomorrow, as I run my 10k I will be filled with the emotion of those 3 precious children, knowing that best friend who has my soul in her heart await my arrival at the finish line, throwing up their hands, yelling out for me, showing their excitement (even if I ask for it) that they are proud of me. And I am proud to be their dad.  I am proud to be your husband. I am proud to be your child. Your brother. Your friend.  And your fighter!

Some days one moment at time feels like a lifetime….RUNSTRONG!!

2mi@10:49pace by steve.eller@acu.edu at Garmin Connect – Details.

I have started my training for the 2012 Houston Marathon.

I have been on a self imposed restructuring of diet and intake into my body, as well as improved insulin management. I think it all began on my last doctor visit with increased cholesterol, weight, and calories.

So far, I have lost 8 pounds since the end of May. I have decreased my daily insulin usage by about 40%, or even 45-50units per day. Quite remarkable, and something I have never been able to do.

I have lowered my basal rate to 3 different rates throughout the day and night, based on some increased lows in the early morning hours of 1-4:00 am.  I have even lowered my basal to less than 1.0u/hr, where I was taking 1.5/hr about a year ago.

All that to say, it is all about discipline. You can’t just change eating habits. You can’t just start running. You can’t just hope it happens.

And so we begin this story more than 10 years ago in Southwest Houston.  I was  out of town the weekend our new black lab came home. He was 11 weeks at the time.  A little older than most “starting” dogs are, according to “Gun Dog”, which is about 7 weeks.  But there he was, prancing and pouncing in the front yard with a red collar on.  Cool Hand Luke would be his name.  Of course, he went by Luke for short.  And now, I wonder, was it just fate that he flew the coup.

Luke joined the family which already included a 4 year old beagle, Taylor.  And thus began their life together.

Saturday morning, I was heading out to the farm to see the horses. Jen texted me and said Luke was not in the backyard.  “Great” I thought. Looks like we’ll be combing the neighborhood.  And in my mind, I was thinking this would be a one-day ordeal. He’d be roaming the streets around us, somewhere between houses, and that would be that.

I got home and was greeted with “he’s dead, I just know it” from all 3 kids.  Jackson got in the truck with me as we drove the neighborhood.  With the windows rolled down, I would blow the whistle out one, and Jackson would yell as loud as he could.. “Luuuukkee!!!” as we passed every other house.

There are things you just don’t talk about when you are stuck in the middle of losing something.  And these tender moments were one of them.  He yelled and yelled and yelled.

We then went across the street from our house to a field, which is also connected to I-20.  Only about 20acres, and you’re there.  We walked through field, whistling and yelling.  And I kept envisioning Luke jumping from around a tree, and just running up to us.  Nope.

I took Jackson home. Blakely had fallen sick to some sinus infection, with a fever, and was just feeling miserable as it was.  She was not happy, because she thought she had left the gate open.

I drove, walked, looked, wished, hoped, tried ESP, looked at the clouds for directions….nothing. I kept picturing this movie scene of me driving by a house, whistling for Luke, and turning the corner… and he would show up watching my tail lights drive off.  Oh the humanity of it all.

Jen was worried about the nights. It was in the 20′s and lower 30′s. But we couldn’t think about that.

That was our New Years Day.

I was done. I did not talk much. The day was over, and the dog was still gone.  Now what?!

I took the boys to church Sunday, with a bad attitude, not really wanting to be there.
Then they sang my favorite song. And favorite meaning, I will cry at the first 2 words every time it starts… The Greatest Command.
I read my bible most of the service. And came across Psalm 27:14, from the Message, that said:

Stay with God!
Take heart. Don’t quit.
I’ll say it again:
Stay with God.

We spent the afternoon Sunday in a funk. The kids played as normal. But this was our dog, me and Jen’s.
I would hours with him in the field next to Quail Valley Elem.  I taught him commands. And then I taught him to duck hunt.

He knew hand signals, whistle commands, and was just an all around obedient kid. Hmmm. See, part of the family.   He was my dog.
Luke was tied to our youthfulness.  A time when we didn’t have children.  Early in our marriage, and eager to see what lays ahead of us.
And as I looked back over the last 10 years, it just began to hit me.  This isn’t just about a dog that has run off.  It’s about the reality that things close to us will not always be here.  (See what happens when you are a therapist)  I sat down in the living room and looked for all of our pictures.  Enjoying the moment, but then falling into my hands.

We put out some signs, placed an ad in the paper/online, and notified ACUPD.
Monday, the kids and I went to the pound. They adopt there as well, and of course the kids found about 3 dogs that needed homes. But no Luke.

They told me I can come back Wednesday, because the new dogs spend 1 day in quarantine.

Each night, I would step out on the porch and look.  Nothing.

Wednesday came. Kids are off to school. And I’m on my way to the pound from Lowe’s.   This morning we were reading the Message at the table, just to see what it said about Blakely’s new verse, Jeremiah 29:11.  I had to start with v. 10, and it went something like this:

“This is God’s Word on the subject: “As soon as Babylon’s seventy years are up and not a day before, I’ll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for.”

See the bold part? I said to the kids, see look, just like with Luke. He will bring him back home.
(Wishful thinking right).

I went inside the pound, and asked about the pictures online. There was one that looked like Luke.  She told me they were from August. Sigh.

I went back, down the first aisle, and then down the next.  And there he was.  Black lab. Grey muzzle. Uncertain about who I was, and looking quite depressed.

“LUKE! Luke, is that you?!” He looked. Thought. And his tail wagged. I stuck my hand in the cage and grabbed his ear to pet it.
And I felt the mass of scar tissue that was from a previous encounter with his cousin, Maggie.

It was him.  Holy cow. No, holy crap. For real. I was in disbelief.

I texted dad on the way to the pound, and asked how you are supposed to remain optimistic and positive in moments like this.
Hope.

Ok, I thought. And what does hope do? Does it fail or disappoint? Oh no, that’s love that doesn’t do that.

Today I learned what hope is.
It’s not caring how much you have to pay to get your dog out of the pound.
It’s having your dog practically sit in your lap the entire drive home.  One paw in my leg, and his head on my shoulder.  Literally.  The entire way home.
He would not move.

It’s knowing people care.  Even those who don’t have dogs.  But people who know what it may be like to lose something so special.

And now, I sit. Typing what seems to be a happy ending. Right?
And waiting for the kids to come home and experience the excitement.

But until then, Luke will lay here on his new camo dog mat, and rest from his adventure.
I mean, he was 15 miles from home.   S.7th & Sammons St.

And as one great theologian said, Ty Pennignton:

Welcome Home Luke. Welcome Home

This song was in my brain when I woke up this morning to go run. Of course, as the alarm went off, I did not want to run. But my legs were starting to sweat and get ancy, and I knew I couldn’t sleep any longer. This was my 2nd run this week of 3 miles. It has been a long time since I’ve been running. But yesterday I went to the doctor.
On your runs, you think. And it’s quiet time. Reflecting on things, and dreaming about others.

Today this phrase hit me: I’m not where I want to be, so I need to stop living like I am, and start fighting to LIVE.

It applies on so many levels, but like I told my doctor, it’s like I won’t get rid of the clothes that don’t fit because I keep waiting for them to fit… yet I’m not doing anything to make that work. I’m living where I am not. It’s like at night when I eat popcorn and ice cream, hoping that one day sugar will actually lower my blood sugar instead of waking up at 200. I’m not living where I am. I took vitamins yesterday, drank water, gave up Coke Zero, ate vegetables, and maintained a 135 blood sugar all day, waking up with a 128.
You know what you need to do, you just need to do it. But do it where you are, not where you want to be.