Burn the Ships

Confession: I (Clay, not Bekah. She's actually good at writing these) started writing this a few months ago and just couldn't bring myself to finish it. I'm finally giving it another go.

Our kids love For King and Country. Especially the song "Burn the Ships." They love the music video on YouTube. They love the normal Amazon Music version in the car or at home. And they now love the live version. Joel and Luke owe us at least a "thank you" for our vast contribution to their views/plays. It's a song I know well. For some reason, when we were at their show late last year, the song hit me a little different.

If you don't know the song, it's about forgetting what's behind you and moving forward into a new day. It was inspired by a personal situation in their lives but also a war story from the 1500s. As the Spanish were invading Mexico, their commander knew the only way they could win was if they had no way back. Given no other option, they'd fight with all they had. So he had their ships destroyed once they arrived. There was no going back to their old lives. It was time to "leave the past and don't you look back."

At the show, I realized that I'm guilty of looking back way too often. Just a couple months before my diagnosis I was running a 5k three mornings a week. Around that same time I pushed through my back pain to play in a disc golf tournament and played in a city softball league. Just a few months before that I was playing intramural football on campus. It was a common sight to drive by and see me pitching to Eli out in the yard. One of my favorite pictures from our time in New Orleans is of me tossing Lydia as high as I could (and catching her) on the Manors playground. I don't know how many Mardi Gras floats drove by us with a kid or adult on my shoulders. I was FAR from a physical specimen but physical activity was a normal rhythm in my day-to-day.

And then suddenly I was told that my body was probably too fragile to hold my 2-month old son. Seemingly overnight I went from "no restrictions" to "all restrictions." I've wished for those old freedoms nearly everyday the past couple years. Sometimes I simply reminisce about "the old me." Other times, there's been more bitterness about what I've lost. But they both involve looking back. Doing that has hindered my ability to move forward with my new reality.

**Let me interrupt this post to stop you from typing something. Yes, I'm aware that the Lord can bring a miracle and I could do those things again. Please don't read this and think, "oh no, Clay is giving up." I'm not giving up and we continue to pray for that miracle. So don't feel obligated to remind us of that truth.**

Letting go of those old things has been quite difficult. I functioned one way for about 35 years. I got used to it. It was fun and it was a main way I served people. Manual labor never scared me. Physical activity was a major stress reducer for me, too. It was just a normal part of life. After all, my dad still plays baseball to this day. Playing with him and my brother was always a highlight of my year. So I naturally assumed that I'd get to do the same with my sons one day. That's just what we Carrolls do. That made it all the more shocking when I couldn't even keep playing at 35 (let alone 65).

I entered a new reality almost two. I'd love to say I did so without ever missing my old reality. But that would be a lie, and most of you would call me out for it. I miss chasing the kids around. I miss playing ball. I miss being able to put my own socks and shoes on. I even miss helping people move. But the more time I spend thinking about those things, the less time I see the things God has still given me. I'm less likely to find things I CAN do (especially with my family) when I dwell on those old things. I can still cook breakfast most mornings. I can read stories with a kid or 2 in my lap. I'm the best stationary tickle-monster you've ever seen. And I can teach the joy of hiding around the next corner to scare whichever member of the family approaches next. All of these bring varying levels of joy to our family.

This is not a post to say that I've mastered any of this still. But I've at least recognized that I'm guilty of holding on to things past. Now just to figure out how to move forward with more joy and less bitterness. Something tells me I've already completed the easy part.

Prayer Requests

• We met with my oncologist on Tuesday but don't have much to report from that. The treatment plan is unchanged for now. I have a brain scan on Friday afternoon (3/7). So far, we've treated 22 spots on my brain. We could really use a streak of clean scans.
• My doctors are discussing a couple options to help lower my hip pain. It's been pretty constant since early August so any reprieve would be helpful at this point. Please pray for wisdom on which treatment to do and for the effectiveness of that treatment.
• I'd like to serve in some capacity with my new limitations. Praying for those opportunities to present themselves in the near future.

Ready, break.