Eyes to See, Ears to Hear

Archive for April, 2007

I wasn’t sleeping well that night.  Maybe because I was looking forward to Christmas break so much as my second year in a new high school was nearly as stressful as the first.  Well, by the time the phone rang, it was early morning, pre-dawn, and I had been awake for a few minutes.  I heard my mom pick it up in her room and waited with that early-morning-phone-calls-can’t-mean-good hesitation.  Sure ‘nough, after a minute or two I heard her feet hit the carpet floor followed by a light creek of her gently opened bedroom door.  My door cracked to make way for my mom’s words, “Jonathan… your brother’s on the phone.”

Something was wrong.  Something was wrong and there were only about 5 seconds worth of steps (for a long-legged 16 year-old) between my bedroom and the phone in moms.  That meant I had no time to make guesses on what it could be.  I picked up the phone with a “Hey.”  “Hey, Jon Boy,” as he often calls me.  “I’ve got some bad news and wanted to be the one to tell you…. Dad passed away last night.”

My first thoughts were to recount the things I hadn’t done for Daddy; the things I hadn’t said to him;  the time I hadn’t spent with him.  It was a numb Christmas that year.  That phone call came shortly after 5 am on December 17, 1992.  It also began the first of my three bouts with depression.  I can talk more on that at another time.

The reason I wanted to share this story is because it hit me that today is my Dad’s birthday and I wanted to honor him.  Not only because he was born on this day, but because he was born on this day in 1942, 65 years ago… retirement age ago.  He would have retired today, if not sooner.

I haven’t honored my father.  One of my actions after his death consisted of anger at what he did wrong and didn’t do right for me and my two brothers.  In my mind and heart right now, that doesn’t matter.  He was Daddy.  He is still Daddy and I know he loved me.  I loved him and still do.

A great comfort is knowing his 65th birthday party is taking place in the presence of The God Almighty.  That makes me cry with peace and joy.

I love you, Daddy.

Carl Douglas McCall   April 17, 1942 – December 17, 1992

Jonathan Carl McCall   March 12, 1976 – I see him again

Come see us April 18 at Hickory Grove Main Campus for the Global Missions Celebration.  Each year our home church holds a Global Missions Week which culminates in a night of celebration at the end.  The celebration is this coming Wednesday and we’d love to see you and/or meet you for the first time.  When you walk in to the Worship Center lobby, we’ll be directly to your left.  The service starts at 6:45pm so come early enough for us to spend some time with you.  Hope to see you there!

NASCAR stands for

National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing

but has become

Jimmie’s Association for Stock Car Auto Racing

I now understand why so many people grew to dislike Jeff Gordon back when he was winning so much. Unfortunately, the media is the main contributor for such good champion drivers to end up losing fans instead of gaining them. A unique thing about NASCAR is that each race has 43 different teams, each with their own fans. That means there is one main event each week when all of these favorites get on the track to duke it out. Some drivers have more fans than others but never-the-less the spectrum of fans watching the main event is very broad. You have 43 teams playing on the same field in the same game. So, for the media to speak about Jimmie Johnson this, Chad Knause that, Hendrick this… well, we non-JJ fans get sick of it and actually would probably get sick of hearing our favorites done the same way.

If NASCAR were a Hindu organization, a Jimmie Johnson bobble head would for sure be on their altar as their newest god.

So SPEED, NASCAR on FOX, TNT… all-a-yaz… please show more about the full spectrum of drivers and events in the race.

**While searching for some stats on NASCAR, I came across this interesting site: www.cawsnjaws.com. It has commercial stats showing how much of each race we lose to mis-timed commercials and the such.**

I finished cleaning up the RV (1999 Jayco Eagle 302FK) this afternoon and it is primed for selling!  Actually, when I finished my last task of mopping the floors and had a chance to look around at it, I kinda wanted to keep it.  Only long enough to take it to the beach for a week!  Now that all of our personal day-to-day possessions are out of it, it once again has taken on full-form RV.

I washed it with RV Wash and wax mixed with some good ol’ Clorox.  I didn’t know it was white!  It is actually the cleanest it has ever been in our possession.  But, its gotta go.  Our first potential buyers are coming to look at it tomorrow so if you’re interested in it, let me know soon.  Here are some details about it:

These are the upgrades/additions we’ve made since we bought it in late 2006:
Standard Queen-size mattress and box spring
Closet rebuilt to double-level cross-bars making room for a lot of hanging clothes
Home-style shower curtain
Shower shelf system
Additional 20-amp circuit wired into entertainment center
Wired for telephone
Wired for digital satellite with prepaid dish and receiver
White wire shelving in almost all the cabinets
Entertainment center modified for larger televisions
Overhead RV stereo system wired to play as surround sound for entertainment center
Inline Watts water pressure regulator
Inline high-capacity whole-house water filter
New city water inlet
New kitchen faucet with detachable head w/hose
New 30-lb. LPG tanks
Vinyl tank cover
LPG gauge
Awning tie-downs
Vinyl wheel covers
Patio mat
Extended rain spouts

We’ve taken good care of it ensuring it has many great trips and years left on it.  The LPG floor-ducted heat will choke you it runs so good (you can keep it turned down) and the ceiling-ducted A/C will turn it into a 30’x’8’ refrigerator!!
Here are other highlights:
3-burner LPG stove & oven
LPG/110V Refrigerator
Microwave w/turntable
Anti-sway bars for stable towing
LPG hot water heater – gets it HOT enough for 2 good showers back-to-back
Dining room table converts to a bed
40-gallon fresh water tank w/high-pressure 12V pump
Detachable shower head w/hose

The title is not meant to be taken in the literal sense of driving vehicles. It is about the church body.

We just got home from spending the entire evening with two 70-ish year-old couples. We enjoyed our time so much it was ridiculous. We were encouraged out the wazoo when our hostess told Dana, “I wish you knew how many times a day we pray for you!” The cool thing about it is that she’s serious. She gets it. She gets it a whole lot more than even I do and I’m a stinkin’ missionary. I respect and adore her dedication to and dependence on God.

What I have noticed throughout my churched life is the saturation of older people leading the charge on the spiritual battlefield. I’m not saying our senior brothers and sisters shouldn’t be so involved in things like prayer and missions… I’m saying they’re picking up the younger folk’s slack in this area. What is it that causes us to spiritually flutter in life until we get post-50 and -60? Why is it that we see more people (older) with less energy selling out more for Jesus? If you know me, you know I’m not the negative type. This is just an aspect of Jesus service that over the past year or so and I have struggled with it. I’m sorry but I have. This missionary thing will stretch you I tell ya.

So, younger folk. Don’t get caught up in living-it-up while you’re still young because the real living is up. (I just came up with that. You heard it here first.) What I mean is that I have been given the gift of a little taste of eternal significance. That is what God has sparked me with: an understanding that what we do can matter long after we’ve passed away and far beyond this world.

Now, let me remind you about the ‘should’ curse. You’ll sputter not too far into something you take on if you only do it because it is what you ‘should’ do. Don’t get caught up in cold religion. Investigate your motives. Try to discover what you want to matter in your life. For me… I want the eternal and not the temporal to matter. Go figure God lays on top of that a bonus of fulfillment, joy, peace, passion, love, ambition, endurance………

I’m not going to miss out.

When we lived in the RV park, we bought one of these king size all free clear laundry detergent jugs from Sam’s Club to keep in the laundry room.  We forgot it when we moved a few weeks ago so I swung by and picked it up Monday while I was in Waxhaw.  I set it in my trunk.

Today, Dana and I stopped by Sam’s to pick up a few things.  We walked back out to the car, I opened the door for her, and went to the back to open the trunk.  It is weird to open it up to a sea of blue.  For a few seconds I didn’t know what I was looking at until I saw the huge jug sitting on its side with the top right cap completely off of it.  In the jug was maybe, at most 3 DROPS left of this stuff; the rest formed about a 3-foot diameter pool.  Needless to say, I didn’t put our new purchases back there.

I love my Honda because essentially the entire floor of the trunk can quickly be taken out.  If you would’ve driven by the house today, you would’ve seen me with a water hose and a small river of suds flowing down the driveway.  The trunk should be extra fresh now.

This is a post from our first edition website during the summer of 2006. I’m glad I kept all the files from it because this was one of my more Jonathan-wide-open writings as I wanted to help those to have hope who are suffering from the same.

As the Dogwood bloomed outside our kitchen window, I sat with an empty stare wondering why this beautiful tree was another thing on my list that I really wasn’t able to enjoy. All the things that had brought joy to my life had once again turned into motions and shallow activities merely to sustain existence. This was my third bout with depression which paralleled the previous in many disturbing ways. It had taken me months back then to admit to myself that I had a problem. My never-ending battle with pride had carried me dangerously deep into the darkness and now its impact was severe. I thought it was up to me and my will power to make it right and get myself out of the rut, but I was horribly wrong. The admission is always the first step to recovery; the first step to getting you back. It was the first step to getting me back.

So, there I sat at the breakfast table staring at such beauty in the blooms and appreciating none of it. The depression had also distanced me from my wife in the same way. Such beauty sitting right in front of me and I only had the inability to appreciate her. I know Dana felt helpless and confused as she didn’t know how to help but her love and dedication never phased. The further one falls into depression, the stouter the distancing defense mechanism of the mind gets. I’ve compared it to the ‘snowball effect’ as once it is started it goes down a very long sloping hill. But, it was Dana who God used to open my eyes and get me to the point of admission. She was the one who didn’t back down or leave my side regardless of how much she struggled with what I was enduring. She was the one who sat on the couch that day and got me to realize I needed help. All of me was gone. I had used up every last bit of my energy fighting off reality as long as I could but my foe was exponentially bigger than I ever could be.

Dana helped us get to Dr. Robert Shive, a semi-retired Christian psychiatrist who knew quickly at our first appointment what the problem was inside of me. I began seeing him once per week and started taking Welbutrin XL, the same anti-depressant that helped in bout number two. Dr. Shive made me agree that once we found the right dosage and mixture of medication that I would continue taking it for at least 12 months. We finally hit the right one two months later in May by augmenting the 300mg of Welbutrin with 30mg of Cymbalta. It was a long summer last year that included some fierce battles within me. By God using the medication He allowed some gifted scientists to discover, my ability to think a solid rational thought actually began to come back. I really knew things were turning when the beauty of His creation once again took me in awe. Sunsets grew more brilliant by the day. The color of the trees exploded with their vibrancy. The songs of the birds chimed loudly and perfectly on every single note. I was getting me back.

I personally didn’t like the fact that it took daily medication to get me to a stable mental condition. Since I was now better in my opinion, I anxiously looked forward to May 2006 when the commitment period came to its end and I could become independent of having to take drugs. April came around and my appointments had dispersed to once per month for 30 minutes as a simple check-up. One afternoon, Dr. Shive called me to tell me that his semi-retirement was now turning to full-retirement effective immediately, thus my therapy with him ended. I didn’t mind and actually became excited because I figured it would allow me to stop the medication a month early. Cymbalta was the first to succumb to its weaning end. I remembered the side effects I had for about 10 days when I began to take it in 2005, so I expected some withdrawal symptoms in ending it. There were definitely some effects but it wasn’t until almost one month later that I realized they weren’t just from withdrawal. I noticed the ‘mind fog’ starting to show up again. I noticed I was feeling down sometimes for no reason at all. I noticed that one possibility Dr. Shive and I had discussed had become a reality. The reality was and is that the chemical make-up of my brain needs a ‘balancer’ more-than-likely for the rest of my day. That was 180 degrees from what I wanted. I didn’t want to have a dependency on a drug for the rest of my life, but even more than that, I didn’t want to ever go back to where I was, anywhere close to the darkness again. With all things measured, I realized it was a great trade-off. I began taking the Cymbalta again.

So, here I sit, mid-summer 2006, still on my full dosage of Welbutrin XL and Cymbalta and the ‘mind fog’ rests in the far distance. Do I think the medicine takes away from my sole dependency on God? Definitely not. I used to thing that way all the way up to my third bout, but I know the error in that thinking by unfortunate experience. I had to step back and look at the big picture of God and His sovereignty. He has blessed us with gifted scientists and doctors for thousands of years that continue to discover the intricacies of His handiwork. Two discoveries He has helped mankind make are Welbutrin XL and Cymbalta. They didn’t originate from the mind of man, but from the grace of God. Clinical depression is a physical ailment that requires constant monitoring and medication just like diabetes or high blood pressure. As a diabetic would not dare go a day without insulin, neither will I without my anti-depressants. To do so would be foolish and make me a poor steward of what He has given us.

U.S. News & World Report Health Center (http://www.usnews.com/usnews/health/hehome.htm) reports that “In any one-year period, 9.5 percent of the population, or about 18.8 million American adults, suffer from a depressive disorder. Depression can strike anyone regardless of age, ethnic background, socioeconomic status, or gender.” My heart sinks in knowing there are that many people in America alone who suffer from the darkness. Knowing the impact it has just on the quality of life hurts me to my core as millions in this country are trapped in this crippling condition. I almost cry as I sit here and think of them and the battle in which they’re fighting. Depression can be like floating in the middle of the ocean during a storm and struggling for your next breath. Charting a course in life and getting to the next port-of-call is a far cry as the waves continually crash on your head. But, there is hope. Someone out there near you and He is there just for you. How do you get to Him? You don’t. He gets to you. How does that happen? He can hear your faintest whisper of a cry even in the crashing waves and the howling wind. The only thing you have to do at this point is realize you’re in grave danger out there and that you need help. Call out for help and it will come. What you need to know is that the Maker has known and always will know exactly where you are and will ever be. He awaits your whisper to ask for help and He will readily send it.

“Then His disciples came to Him and awoke Him, saying, ‘Lord, save us! We are perishing!’ But He said to them, ‘Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?’ Then He arose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. So the men marveled, saying, ‘Who can this be, that even the winds and the sea obey Him?’” (Matthew 8:25-27) He is the Source of all life. He is the Creator and the One who loves you in eternal ways. He is the One who doesn’t need a ship to rescue you from the storm because He has infinite power over the raging wind and sea. Power that has no beginning and will never have an end. My healing began when I noticed I was treading water in a storm and needed help. I called, He came and gave me life again. “And He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you.’” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

This spring, the Dogwood in our backyard was the most beautiful tree I had ever seen.

<—– End of original post ——->

You may be wondering about the title and depression costing me $5/day? Well, that is what my medication averages out to be after insurance covers some of it. No amount of money will ever determine my ability to simply live life.

Dana and I went to Waxhaw yesterday after church to check our PO Box and nest boxes. Low and behold 3 of the bluebird eggs have hatched! And, in the other house we left behind, there were four little Carolina Chickadee eggs. Thought I’d share the good news.

* The above picture is one I found online that is an example of what Chickadee eggs look like.  They’re just a tad bit bigger than jelly beans.  God is big.

That’s how far we traveled last week on our trip to Florida. We started out with a 12-hour adventure to St. Petersburg long before the sun came up. The drive was supposed to be only 10 hours but once we arrived at our reserved hotel, well… it was, let’s say, not as we had hoped. Sparing the details of why we decided not to stay there, I quickly got on the phone with our credit card’s concierge service through whom we were using our rewards points. They ended up booking us at The Pier Hotel right in downtown St. Pete. I would HIGHLY recommend this hotel to anybody. Check out their website and you’ll see why. What you see online doesn’t even do justice to how nice it really is in person.

We spent a few days site seeing and bird watching before visiting an afternoon with my Aunt Lois in Lake Wales. We were greeted with freshly squeezed orange juice and a box full of beautiful pink grapefruit. Thanks Aunt Lois!!!

We left there to try to catch a glimpse of a painted bunting on the way to our second overnight destination of the trip, Palm Coast. We stayed at another awesome hotel there, the Microtel Inn & Suites.

We swung by Anastasia State Park on our way out of town and saw quite a few warblers and Cedar Waxwings high in the trees along the park’s nature trail. Watching those little boogers is hard on your neck!  Then, our 7-hour drive home finished at 9 hours due to the heavy Easter traffic. All-in-all it was a great trip. It was great to get away for a little while to recharge and get our second wind for more partnership development. We’re still 43% short so tomorrow will be busy with e-mails and phone calls!

“Oh man, here’s one of those weird missionary people who got his hands on a blog. Next thing you know he’ll be sending out a petition e-mail against Piggly Wiggly for selling Budweiser in a 100-pack!” No, I’m not some freakazoid who enjoys making legalistic stands but I do have morals. Myspace puts them to the test.

About six months ago, I thought that putting together a myspace.com page would be a good complement to our website and hopefully generate more traffic to it. So, I signed up for a free account and made a basic ‘space’ in order to direct people to jonathananddana.com. It wasn’t long at all before I began to receive ‘invites’ in my e-mail inbox to become someone’s friend which is the way social networking plays out on myspace. Unfortunately, I wasn’t receiving an invite from people who wanted to be my friends… they (or it) invited me to visit their sleazy myspace page full of hot this, sexy that, or nude something-or-other. Strike 1, 2, AND 3 in only one pitch for myspace.

So, I figured out how to not allow invites via the myspace profile I had and that stopped the trash from flowing my direction. Then, one of my old friends from high school (Class of ’94 Stratford Knight!) found me on myspace and sent me a message. Myspace only e-mails you notification of the message. You then have to log in to the website to read it online. So, I typed in the address into my Firefox web browser, clicked on the login link, and got smacked in the face with temptation right there as I went to check a message in my account. There on the right one-third of the screen was a woman wearing merely threads advertising a singles dating website. For any women who read this blog, men you know aren’t perverts because we are tempted with skin-laden visualizations. ANY man you know CAN be tempted by lust. Don’t think so? Think it is only those creepy little men who sneak through dark alleys to drop $150 at the adult video store? Don’t be fooled. There is a missionary man typing the very words you are reading that has been and still can be tempted by lust.  It is real.  It is a formidable foe.

If you think you are standing strong, be careful not to fall. The temptations in your life are no different from what others experience. And God is faithful. He will not allow the temptation to be more than you can stand. When you are tempted, he will show you a way out so that you can endure.     1 Corinthians 10.12-13 (NLT)

All that brought about a new hedge/standard/safeguard, one of many for me. No more myspace because there are plenty of other ways for me to achieve my goals without having to compromise my integrity or my marriage. Myspace is no place for me.