All posts in Luke’s Life

If you follow me on Facebook or Twiiter, then you already know that my ankle had a rough day today. As with any great injury, there is often a great story. A story that everyone asks to hear when you hobble in with a giant cast and shiny new crutches. The injured must carry the burden of repeating the story again and again, wishing and hoping and praying that they heal quickly so that everyone they love in life will stop greeting them with those two dreaded words, “What happened?”

Fortunately, through the modern miracle of the Internet, I am able to record the story (complete with visual aids!) and post here for all of you to see. What a glorious day we live in! So without further adieu, here is the story of how I started at a service project and ended up in the hospital.

The Day

The crew right before weeding

It was a normal day for a youth pastor. I awoke after hitting the snooze button too many times and rushed out the door to meet up with the students for today’s MOVE project. MOVE is an experiment for our youth group this summer where we take junior high students for a day and split it between a service project and a fun activity. There were 8 teens, half were from my church and the other half were from a local church we partnered for these projects.

Today’s project was a simple one. We headed out to a farm in Otsego where a man grows hundreds of pounds of vegetables so he can donate fresh produce to the local food shelf. Our goal was to weed as much of the garden as we could. We pulled up weeds around broccoli and carrots and squash and tomatoes. The students did a fantastic job working, and it was fun to see how much better the garden looked when we had finished.

@ The Wienery... delicious!

After the service project we headed for lunch at The Wienery, a fantastic little hole in the wall in Minneapolis that serves up some amazing hot dogs (and burgers). I opted for The Upsetter, a Vienna beef hotdog on a poppyseed bun topped with eggs over easy and bacon. It was, quite simply, delicious. Go, eat, be happy.

From there we went down to Minnehaha Falls for some play. We rented a few of those 4 person carts and cruised around the parkways in the area. It was a ton of fun! We laughed non-stop as we tried to pedal as a team, make it up giant hills, figure out where we were, and just all around enjoy ourselves. We worked up quite a sweat, so after we dropped off the bikes we started towards the water to cool down.

The Accident

I don't know these people, but that's the wall.

There is a little stone wall that goes around the perimeter of the falls. You can see it in this picture behind those people (no, I don’t know who they are either, they are just the only people on the internet with a picture of that wall). It’s about 2-3 feet high on one side, and about a 10′ drop on the other, and about 2′ wide. Minnehaha Falls is my favorite place in Minneapolis and I’ve visited hundreds of times. Nearly every time I visit I walk atop this little wall. I’m the kind of guy who likes to blaze his own trail and I often opt for the most unconventional route. This time, it cost me.

As I was walking along this wall I started to lose my balance. With my arms doing giant circles in the air as I tried to regain my center, I knew I was more likely to take a tumble. I looked at the little deer trail 10′ beneath me, a jump I’d made on multiple occasions before, and opted for a controlled drop.

I hopped off the wall and dropped to the dirt path, landing on both feet and then absorbing the remaining momentum with my hands, a perfect landing it would seem. But when I hit, I heard the distinct sound of bones doing things they shouldn’t. I looked down to see my right ankle, turned about 40º further than any ankle should.

“Youth Pastor Mode” quickly set in. I hollered to the students (whom I had wisely and hypocritically told to stay off the ledge) and told them my ankle was broken. They laughed, then looked at my disfigured right foot, then stopped laughing. (I can’t blame them, that does kind of sound like the kind of joke I would make). The students were phenomenal.  They quickly set about asking someone to call 911, finding a bag of ice, and talking with me to make sure I was ok. I could not have been more proud of them.

I called my wife, who was about 20 minutes by light-rail from where we were, and told her to start heading down. I then called 911, and asked them to send an ambulance. By now a student had safely reached me using a different route, and had begun icing my ankle. I called the office managers of both churches and told them what had happened, that my wife would bring the students back to meet their parents, and that we had it all worked out. Within 5 minutes we had a perfect plan that was being executed to make sure that the students were taken care of, and so was I. This is why we always talk about contingency plans with our youth leaders.

I managed to land myself in a pretty tricky location. So after the medics applied a foam splint, the Fire Department got to work putting me on a backboard and hoisting me up over the wall and into the waiting ambulance. My wife arrived at the park just as the ambulance was taking me away, and the students hung out with a Captain from the Minneapolis Police Department while I was being tended to. I can’t say enough nice things about the amazing emergency workers that came to my aid today.

The Injury

Twisted ankle (my knee is vertical)

I was rushed off to HCMC where I received top-notch care and enjoyed each of the 17 or so nurses, doctors, and specialists that dealt with me. X-rays showed that I had not only dislocated my ankle, but I had also broken my tibia, and really really broken my fibula. Or maybe it’s the other way around… they had started pumping me with morphine by this point.

I was sedated so they could “reduce” my ankle. Which is medical jargon for fixing a dislocated joint. I asked what they were “reducing” and the doctor said, “We’re reducing your ability to turn your foot backwards.” I liked him. The whole procedure took less than 10 minutes, and I awoke to the burning feeling of a hot ‘n’ fresh plaster cast. A few more x-rays and the report came back that they had set everything exactly where they wanted it to go, which was great news.

The not so great news is that to get the foot to turn that much, and the bones to break that much, I did some pretty good damage to the ligaments in my leg. To make sure the bones heal properly, I will probably end up having surgery next week to get a metal plate put in. I’m praying that isn’t necessary and that it starts to heal properly right from the start. Either way, I’m probably looking at 4-6 weeks off my foot, and if you know me you know how much that kills me.

It’s one of those “as good as it can be for how bad it is” situations. I really should’ve done more damage to the rest of my leg for how much damage I did to the ankle, but everything else checks out. That’s a miracle.

About to be sedated

The Thanks

Thank you to all who prayed for me during this. It was weird how encouraging it was to have people pinging me on Facebook throughout the whole afternoon and evening at the hospital. The final diagnosis was much better than the preliminary ones, and I know your prayers had a big part to do with that.

Another thanks to our amazing students. They did a perfect job and acted exactly how I would have hoped for. You’d think we’d practiced this before. The medics even commented during the ambulance ride about how impressed they were by the teens… really a great example.

And a final thanks to all of you who did so much for us on such short notice. My amazing wife for getting all the students home safely, friends who took care of our dog, or helped transport vehicles back where they needed to go, or set up meals, or so many other things. I really feel tremendously blessed by the immediate outpouring of love and support.

I’ll update once we know what’s coming next, for now please keep the healing in your prayers. Not having surgery would be fantastic! Either way, I’m trusting that God will find ways to redeem a busted ankle for His glory, He’s all about using broken people to change the world.

I think I ignored God today.

I was at Lunch and passed an elderly couple as I walked through the parking lot. I noticed them more than you tend to notice people in a parking lot. Maybe noticed isn’t the right word… I was intrigued. I went into the restaraunt and ordered my lunch, as I paid I noticed them coming in through the door. They were easily 80-90 years old, it took them a little while to get to the door. As they came in I had the strongest urge to pay for their lunch and sit down and hear their story. It was an odd idea, it didn’t feel like it was my idea at all. That’s usually a sign of a God idea.

I ignored the feeling, blaming it on skipping breakfast or not getting enough sleep. Sitting with my meal I began to read, but remained very aware of this couple as they shuffled through the line, got their food, and sat at a table next to mine. It still wasn’t too late, I could go sit with them and ask to hear their story.

I think I missed out on a good story.

As I walked past them to discard my tray and head out the door, I kept feeling this gentle tug to go sit with them. I can’t tell you what kept me from sitting with them. I’ve done things far crazier than sit with an elderly couple based on no more than a feeling that the Holy Spirit was leading me. But I was… scared, I guess. I’m not really sure. But scared is probably the best word. Not terrified, just sort of uneasy. Like when you’re a passenger in a car and the driver waits longer to break than you would have. A brief moment of unrest.

They seemed pleasant, and the man had tattoos on his forearms, Popeye style, so I bet he had a tale or two to share. But I didn’t sit, I rushed off to a to-do list full of things that could wait.

I know God calls his followers to things that often don’t make sense to us, and I know he calls us toward things outside our comfort zone. It is sometimes easier to do big dramatic things that don’t make sense when we follow God. I often forgot that things that are simple and safe can still be outside our comfort zone. I had absolutely nothing to lose by asking to share lunch with a couple I didn’t know, but I naively decided that the risk was too great. Hopefully next time I won’t ignore God.

I’ve been alive for 10,000 days.

I don’t know what it is about big round numbers that makes us love them so, but I was sure to share the factoid of my 10,000th day in any situation where it was applicable… and a few where it wasn’t.

Another thing about big round numbers is they make one feel reminescent. I spent much of the day feeling older and more mature, and thinking back over the things I’ve learned in my thousands of days on the planet. If you’ll permit me, I’ll share some of those meandering thoughts.

You can’t win.
A very pessimistic start, no? But hear me out. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to please everyone. I like the feeling when everyone is happy with me, and have a tendency to cast off my better judgement as I chase it. A few years in the trenches of ministry have taught me that no matter what you do, someone will think you should have done it differently.

In a way, that’s been entirely freeing. When “what’s best” replaces “what everyone will like” as the top priority it sets you up for even greater success, and prepares you to respond to the nay-sayers. Knowing you’ll never win would be depressing if it weren’t offset by the fact that…

You can’t lose.
I’m a hopeless optimist. As I write this I am on a flight to Dallas. Outside my window the sun is setting behind storm clouds creating, you guessed it, a silver lining. I’m a silver-lining kind of guy. What makes the Christian faith so amazing to me is the capacity for hope it brings.

A few months ago I was working with youth in the slums of Nairobi, Kenya. Amid some of the most deplorable living conditions I’ve ever seen I witnessed some of the most unbridled hope I’ve ever encountered. My cultural upbringing suggested these should be some of the saddest people I’d meet, but they proved to possess a deep joy that I wanted to bottle and bring home to share with the suburban teens I work with.

Ultimately, we can’t lose. That’s a side-effect of Christ-following that is often overlooked. Hope is birthed by the understanding that, in the end, things will be okay. That doesn’t mean we won’t fail. We will, and we should. A mantra I’ve grown to love is “Fail faster so you can succeed sooner.” Failure is always an option, and sometimes it will end up being the best option. What makes failure palateable is recognizing that despite the setbacks in life, the promise of new life that Jesus brings is a promise that we can’t lose. Assured by that hope we are in a better place to learn that…

Failure isn’t always bad.
To be fair, I haven’t experienced a chatostrophic failure. But I’ve had plenty of tiny failures along the way. In fact, I wonder if learning from those various small to mid-size failures aren’t part of what’s helped me escape even bigger ones.

There was the night nobody showed up for youth group, which was a catalyst to helpful changes in our program. Or the group activity for which I incurred the wrath of some parents, when I had though it was rather benign. There was a couple years of poor time management. I failed time and time again to put my wife before my work. Or skewed priorities, thinking that “working for God” meant I didn’t have to put a lot of energy into my relationship with him. I still struggle with that one. It’s a constant reminder that…

Everything is a work in progress.
There seems to be some kind of misconception that if we work hard and stay focus we will “arrive” at a point in life where all is as it should be. I defy you to find one person who thinks they have “arrived.” We’re all a work in progress, as is everything we do. I recently heard a story of a pastor who got a letter 25 years after a conversation he had with a church member. He had never thought twice about the interaction, but it proved to be a pivotal moment in the other person’s life. Just further evidence that…

We don’t know what we’re doing.
There are very few moments in life where you feel absolutely certain that you are getting it right. Even in things we are sure of, there is room for doubt. I am positive that I am supposed to be a youth pastor, but I still often doubt whether I am doing a good job of it.

It’s a bittersweet arrangement, to not know what you’re doing. On one side you can feel lost or ineffective. It’s easy to beat yourself up and swear you’ll do better in the future, even though you’re not quite sure what that even means. The countless gray areas in life can quickly cover the brighter colors of life.

On the other side, we also don’t know what we’re accomplishing. Like that pastor, the tiny decisions we make each day can ripple in the lives of those we encounter for decades. So, why not give yourself the benefit of the doubt? We often imagine ways we’ve failed, why not imagine ways we’ve succeeded as well. If we believe that voice inside us that says, “You did that wrong. You wasted that opportunity.” despite ressurance from others that it wasn’t as bad as you thought, then why don’t we also let the other voice speak up? The one that says, “You can’t see it yet, but that made a difference.” Listening to that voice can also help you remember…

We don’t need to take everything so seriously.
There is a lot about life that’s absurd. From the scandalous grace of the cross, to the fact that we still don’t know what hiccups are all about. You can’t make it through a day without encountering the absurd. Just today I saw a tweet that had two links. 1 was an article about rejecting materialism, the other was a contest to win an iPad if you followed him. (For the record, I followed him. An iPad would make it more convenient to read articles about how to reject material things.)

There are some things in life that are serious. Death, for instance, is a serious matter. However, some of the best laughter I’ve ever shared has been with those mourning a loss. It’s a release, a coping mechanism, and I’ve known too many people who suppress that deeply rooted desire to laugh when the fragile grasp on “normal” is lost and we found ourelves neck deep in chaos. They always look tired.

Most criticism you receive isn’t personal. Most of the things we worry about can be solved by a good night’s rest. Most second chances are followed by third and fourth chances. And most things in life can be enjoyable as long as you’re in the right frame of mind. Just ask my friends still in the slums of Kenya.

I’m going to have my wisdom teeth out next week. However minor, it will be my first surgery of any kind and my first time under general anesthesia. I’m not worried about the procedure or the recovery (which apparently feels like riding a unicorn to the Land of Blueberries). No, the thing that most worries is me is making a fool of myself as I come off my “trip to Neverland.” A fear that was not diminished by this video, which proves that only people on drugs sing Carman songs. Hopefully I’ll be able to at least belt out some Petra.