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The Sound of Courage
The Sound of Courage by Liz Clark There were sounds I didn’t want to hear. The sound the shovel made as it pierced the soil. The pause that followed. The almost-silent sound of dirt piling up beside the neatly dug hole. When the sounds were done, the thing that consumed my mind that day, despite the stubborn sunshine, was the hole that remained. Others call it a grave. I watched him dig the hole. I listened to the sounds. I shouldn’t have been there, listening, but I was. The hole didn’t belong to me or my family. It was dug for a stranger. Yet, the loss I felt was so profound. The woman who raised me had died nearly two years before in an awful and tragic way. And there was no funeral. She was cremated, and we were confused. Because she wasn’t supposed to die. The memorial services were rushed and awkward. She was so loved and had made herself home to so many people. There were services in 3 different states, in borrowed churches, and people who only knew her through her laugh and her lasagna. And it was nice for them to talk about her like she was the nice lady they once knew. But they didn’t understand. They didn’t really understand that she was alive and active and wonderful, and then she got into the backseat of a car on her way to her sister’s funeral. Only she never made it. Instead of her sister’s funeral, she met with her own tragedy that day: a car accident, 12 weeks in ICU and then her death. And they also didn’t seem to understand that she was my rock. And she wasn’t supposed to die like that. But she did. So I found myself at a cemetery nearly two years later. To reflect on life, I suppose. I came across a gravedigger and, for some reason, I stopped and pretended to pay respects to a stranger named Smyth and made myself listen to the sound of the shovel and the dirt. It’s morbid, I know, but I needed it somehow. Standing there in front of a stranger’s grave, an emotion swept over me that I haven’t been able to define. I suddenly had incredible clarity. All at once, I understood what she meant when she told me all of those times growing up, “I just want you to be happy.” She didn’t mean “happy” in the shallow, fun-loving kind of way. She meant happy. Fulfilled. At peace. At rest. Full of life and excited. She wanted me to be who I was designed to be. And I realized as I listened to the sound of the dirt that I was not happy. In many ways, I was dead inside; and not just because of her death. I realized that I had made choices to believe certain things about life and work and the possibility of happiness. Inside my mind’s eye, the truth began to play out in front of me. It was as if, years ago, a figurative gravedigger had said to me, “Your dreams aren’t good enough. In fact, they’re dead. But I can help you get them out of your head so you can go about your life. You’re lucky – you’ve got good solid skills. Stick with those. They are safe. Dreams are dangerous.” And he graciously dug while I wrestled my hopes and dreams into a coffin and waited for him to finish the job. And the sound of that shoveling had been somehow echoing in my soul for years, long before her tragic death. When that gravedigger in my mind had finished, he turned to me and said, “You’re safe now. Stick with what you know and you’ll be fine.” I thanked him and glanced down at the name on his uniform shirt. I couldn’t quite make it out, but it looked like it read: FEAR. I stood there in that cemetery, stunned at this realization, hot tears racing down my face. My dreams were dead and done, but...
Read MoreFinding My Way in the Dark
by Ronei Hardin as told to Teri Modisette My name is Ronei, and this is one of the darkest hours of my life. It’s very hard for for me to say, but I’m losing my husband. This is my life now–I go to my first job and teach high school English all day. Then I go to my second job. When I’m done there, it’s back to the hospital to be with my husband, Sam. We are introverts as individuals and as a couple. What I have is special, so I’m cautious, protective of my family, and deeply private. Sam worked in the stage lighting and production industry for several popular country music and popular touring artists. He was in the middle of programming Toby Keith’s lighting exactly one week before our daughter’s high school graduation on May 25. That meant Sam would get to go with me, see our daughter graduate, and hear her commencement speech. He finished Toby Keith’s rehearsal schedule the day before graduation. When he came home, I knew something was very wrong. His whole body was a terrifying, glowing, zombie yellow–so yellow he scared his co-workers. I said, “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” He insisted that he wouldn’t go to the hospital until he watched our daughter graduate and heard her commencement speech. I was adamant that he go to the hospital immediately. Neither of us would budge, so we struck a compromise: he’d go to graduation if I could take him straight to the E.R. afterward. We went to graduation, she delivered her speech, and we left as soon as it was over. We spent the next six days in critical care. The test results said hepatocellular carcinoma: liver cancer. Sam has faced cancer twice before and kicked it in the teeth, but the doctors are very clear: the calendar is our enemy. At five months into his 12-month best-case scenario, we are regularly in and out of hospitals. I joined Round 2 of the Start Experiment because I knew it would give me a chance to be part of someone else’s story. I wanted to keep pouring into people the things I have to offer. I needed to know I wasn’t the only one walking through the darkest hour of my life. While everyone in the Experiment was talking about whether they were going to the Start Conference, I sat in the area of Vanderbilt hospital reserved for family members of those having serious surgery. There were moms crying because their kids’ lives hung in the balance. Grandchildren weeping because grandpa had had a heart attack. I was surrounded by high-level drama and to top it all off, the START Conference was literally going to happen right down the street from my second job. All that happiness and inspiration, right down the street. I sat in that waiting room and thought, “I can’t listen to this.” I was crying and thinking, “Why is this happening to me?” I put on my headphones, got my laptop, and found a corner. I was at the end of my hope. I remember telling God, “When Sam goes, please take me too.” At that point, I didn’t care anymore. At first, I didn’t have it in me to say anything about my situation, but sitting in that waiting room, I thought, “Crap. I need to say something. I have to write something to help me lay this all down and let it go.” I logged into my blog–which was full of tumbleweeds and dust bunnies at that point–and started drafting a post. Actually, it was my “Dear Jon” letter. I was scared the letter would come off as a whine letter when I was honestly trying to be funny. You see, if I can find the funny in any given situation, that’s when God shows up for me. He knows my sense of humor and that’s how He comforts and supports me. I posted the letter. Then I put the link in the Start Experiment with the headline, “Here goes nothing.” I burst into tears,...
Read MoreGood Therapy // Sydney & Sandy Clegg
My name is Sydney. And I’m awesome. At least, that’s what my family tells me. After you read my story, I bet you think I’m pretty awesome too. Oh, I forgot to mention – I’m a duck. Are you surprised? Don’t be. There really are a bunch of us around. You just don’t notice us. Or maybe you get us confused with our cousins, the geese. Don’t tell anyone, but they can be somewhat annoying with all the honking. I’m sure you are wondering what I’m doing here on FrankenSTART. What’s so great about a duck – and why in the world would feathers be part of Feature Friday? Well, like I said – I’m not ordinary. Neither is my story. My family saved me from a place called freezer camp. I’ve been told it’s not a camp at all, and no duck I’ve ever known that’s gone there has returned, so I’m not feeling too good about the place. Seriously, who likes camping, anyway? The day after my family brought me home, I had an encounter with a wild parrot named Coo. He jumped up and bit me on my beak. Can you believe it? That is some nerve starting a fight with a baby duckling. I guess I was a tough duck, though, because all I ended up with was a scar. I also fought off a vicious monster attack one night when my sister and I were sleeping outside. The monster kidnapped her, but I survived. I’ll spare you all the details, but let’s just say I had a difficult childhood. I felt completely ordinary. Luckily, things started to look up pretty quickly. My brothers started taking me on walks in our neighborhood. It was awesome! I got to see new houses and sidewalks and trees. I even got to the chance to swim every now and then. I ran into some of my friends, the Mallards. They weren’t very nice to me, and wouldn’t swim with me. Apparently, I didn’t fit in with them. But that’s okay. I loved the fresh air and the cool water, even just for a short time. I left my flock a long time ago, but I often wanted to go back. I wanted to be with my friends and family in a world that was safe and familiar. I wanted to be with other ducks. I didn’t understand this world with humans and their strange language. But, slowly, over time, they brought me into their world. They were different. They were loving, and kind, and wanted to make a difference in the world. So I decided to make a change. I decided to move away from feeling ordinary. I decided to become an overachiever in a non-feathered world. I’m not sure she knows it, but I helped my Mom find an ad in the paper for the Humane Society. They were looking for therapy animals. I didn’t really know what a therapy animal did, but it sounded like a pretty cool adventure to me, and I wanted in! I made sure she saw that portion of the paper that day. I had to make a little mess to do it, but it was worth it. At first, I think she just dismissed it. But, I kept bringing that paper back in front of her. And then she did something crazy. She sent them an email! She didn’t tell them I was a duck. Honestly, I was a little offended by that. But, the lady who responded actually guessed I was a duck and wanted to meet me. Can you believe it? Instantly, Mom was concerned. She has yet to figure out how to potty train me. I don’t even know what that means, but I will tell you I will NEVER agree to it. Potties are disgusting, and I am not going anywhere near one. After we met with the Humane Society, they told us I could now start visiting nursing homes. Mom seemed pretty excited about that. It took me a little while to get used to the...
Read MoreMeet the Generosity Project Winners!
Great ideas are typically sparked by two unrelated events. For The Generosity Project, it was a combination of an anonymously donated ticket and a Chick Fil A drive thru. Who would have ever guessed that those two events would spark the birth of #STARTJoy? Casey Lewis, who is passionate about being generous, witnessed these two random acts of kindness, and an instant question came to mind. “What if we could be generous, and as a START Experiment community, join together to send one person to the conference with all travel expenses paid?” Quickly, the idea moved from “what if” to “how can we make this happen?” The goal was simple: raise $1,000 to send a START Experiment member to the START Conference with airfare, hotel, and a conference ticket. Casey and his team planned to raise the money in one week. However, in the first 90 minutes of the crowd-sourcing campaign, the project was fully funded! It was incredible. Jon Acuff encouraged STARTers to keep moving forward. The new goal became #Drivefor5. Sending just one person to the conference seemed inadequate – the new goal would be five. From the leanest of pocket books and from those overflowing, the donations poured in. Donations came from people who were already planning to attend the conference, and also from those who knew it would be impossible to attend. Donations even poured in from people outside of the START Experiment, as well as from Jon Acuff himself! EVERYONE invested in each other. The Generosity Project revealed the true heart of the START community – full of open, accepting, and GENEROUS people who want to make an impact on the world. Today, you get to meet the #STARTjoy Generosity Project scholarship recipients. It’s a chance to see what the judges saw in them. You may also see your own dreams in theirs as you celebrate their opportunity to jump start their dream next week. May Bohon – Fort Worth, Texas They do things big in Texas, right? May’s dream definitely fits that description. May’s dream is to work for Dave Ramsey and help more people get out of debt. “I told Jon in front of 50 people that my big risk is to become his coworker.” May is currently hustling hard on her dream. She has been a faithful #5club member, consistently waking up at 5am. She wrote and posted more to her blog in the first six weeks than she did in the entire previous year. She is also working through physical therapy, and signed up for a graphic design course this fall. “I will learn new ways to hustle, especially from Dana Tanamachi, Jeremy Cowart and Jeff Goins. The Start Conference will help me pursue the creative side of our beautiful world. Meeting more Lampo people will teach me how to be a valuable candidate for their creative team. And, meeting fellow STARTers will keep our unstoppable community moving!” May desperately wanted to attend the conference, but she was forced to make a tough decision. She had to choose between her own debt snowball, which she and her husband have been diligently working on, and the conference. She made the wise decision to put her debt snowball before the trip. But now, thanks to the Generosity Project and #STARTJoy, she will get the best of both options! Malori Fuchs – Frisco, Texas Malori is punching fear in the face while her husband is deployed in Afghanistan. She has an audacious goal of officially becoming a Quitter in the next nine months. She writes about living the Warrior life. Her dream is to help other military wives/fiancées/girlfriends know they are not alone. She also hopes to help non-military families understand what is like to have a family member serving in the Armed Forces. She wants to help people realize that they can be a warrior, too. She wants to help people learn to be passionate and fearless when they are fighting for what is important in their lives. “As tough as dealing with...
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