2011 Lessons: Torrie Epperson

Surprise! The musing carnival doesn’t have a nepotism clause! Okay, fine print aside, while this might be my wife Torrie’s first official post on my blog, it doesn’t mean that her voice has not been heard here before. She proofreads nearly every single one of my posts. Regularly, she’ll pull the MacBook over onto her lap and hack away. Occasionally, Torrie will simply reply, “looks good” and push the laptop back to my side of the bed. Other times she will take her reading glasses off, shake her head and say, “you’re weird.” I don’t know why she does it but I do know this. Every time she touches the keys, she makes my 1,000 words a thousand times better.

Torrie breathes life into everything she touches and is my editor in writing and life. They say that you shouldn’t get married thinking you can change a man. If that is the norm then Torrie could make a killing teaching seminars to brides-to-be. Being married to Torrie has changed me, not that it was her goal, per se. But she has made everything about me better. I’m a harder worker and more compassionate person because of her. I have a deeper understanding of Jesus. I don’t have long hair anymore because of her. That alone makes her a saint! Do you remember me with long hair? I looked like Shaggy Doo had a baby with Rob Thomas.

Settle in. You are going to read some pretty incredible words below. Her reflections on the past year remind me that, while she is making me a better person, I still have a long way to go to catch up with her.

Oh, and one last thing. Do me a favor and follow her on twitter. I know she’d really like 99 followers. It has something to do with a Jay-Z reference. Don’t ask. – Eric

Everything they say is true.

Regarding pregnancy, that is. Palmer’s oil really does prevent stretch marks, exercise really does make for an easy delivery, and breastfeeding really does help you lose your baby weight. Everything they say about everything else is still questionable and should not be trusted.

I am woman, hear me roar.

In 2011, I carried a baby a week past her due date, labored intensely for 4 hours, and pushed her out in less than an hour. And she wasn’t a tiny baby either – a healthy 8 ½ pounds. In trying to prepare for this experience, Eric and I watched YouTube footage of childbirths (note to expectant mothers: this is a bad idea). Every time, I ended up dry-heaving in the bathroom, in tears, convinced I could not do it. In efforts to try to build up my confidence, Eric spent many hours telling me that I was strong enough, I was brave enough, and besides, it didn’t really matter, because she had to come out somehow. He told me that I should feel empowered, and that if I could deliver a baby, I could do anything. And I have to admit, once I was finished with the labor and delivery, I did feel like a rock star.

EF5 tornadoes are a big deal.

I recently read that an EF5 tornado is the most powerful storm on Earth, with winds more than 200 miles per hour, compared to 155 for a Category 5 hurricane. It is also incredibly rare. Out of 100,000 thunderstorm clouds, only about 1,000 will produce tornadoes. Of those, less than 1 percent will be rated EF4 or EF5. About one-tenth of 1 percent of all tornadoes will become an EF5. The tornado that took our home, tested my ability to make decisions quickly, threw me head-first into motherhood, and cemented my rock star status was the result of not one, but five supercell storm clouds that converged right on top of us.

People are good.

As a result of that tornado, I got to see just how effective the church is, and just how loved we are. For example, I have not had to purchase baby wipes, toilet paper, or toothpaste since May (not because we don’t use them, but because so many people donated things like that to us). Alice has more clothes now than she did before the storm. We had a place to stay when so many others had to live in hotels and FEMA trailers. We really got to see firsthand how the church takes care of people, and we were able to experience the kindness of people, both familiar and strangers. With the exception of the looters who showed up the next week to steal copper wiring from our basement (c’mon, really?!?), we experienced generosity, compassion, and sympathy from everyone we encountered.

Home is where my little family is.

Over several months of 2011, we really got to test this theory out. In Alice’s short life, she has lived in our original house in Joplin, the guest room of our friends in Webb City, a dorm room in Tennessee, a barn in Carthage, and finally, a tiny rent house back in Joplin. While I may miss our comfortable old house and its charming features, I know that our home is where we are – it’s where we get to make traditions together. Things like family snuggle time, nighttime dance party, and Alice’s bed and bath routine are ones that we can do anywhere, and the ones that we’ll enjoy regardless of where they happen.

Having a baby really does change you.

Without sounding too self-important, I have to admit that I never knew life could be this full before. Sure, I hear myself saying things like “please, just let me pick your nose” and “are you pooping right now?” but I also get a glimpse into our Father’s love for us – in that he gives and gives and we can offer so little in return. Also, rumor has it, Eric’s turned into a real softie since Alice came along.

Vacations are a good thing.

All that changing is exhausting. Parenthood is not for the faint of heart. It’s a big commitment. Between incubating the baby, nursing the baby, and just the general wear and tear associated with keeping a baby alive, it’s vital to take some time off. This is especially true for Eric and I, who had nearly 9 glorious years together before having a baby. I will stand by anyone who says that getting away from the baby every once in awhile makes you a better parent. If a vacation is out of the question, a good nap will cure almost anything. I promise, the dishes can wait.

Normal is a constantly evolving concept.

We’ve often referred to life in the last 8 months as the “new normal”, and even that has changed a few times. It’s important not to get too caught up in what we should be doing at our age, why we haven’t reached all our goals yet, or when we will finally settle down. Instead, we need to accept that our life will change when it’s time and we should just enjoy our normal right now.

Some things don’t matter as much as I thought they did, some matter more.

Things that don’t matter so much: college football, a clean house, and having DVR. Things that do: hearing my baby breathe when she sleeps, dependable friends, and a good home insurance policy.

God hears prayers.

Even the little ones. So keep praying.

2011 Lessons: Jacob Epperson

When our next contributor, my younger brother Jacob Epperson, agreed to write a post for me, I was excited to see what perspective he would bring. We’ve been brothers pretty much his entire life so naturally, people often ask if we are similar. I respond, “We’ve got a lot in common… I’m taller one… and he’s the smart/nice/bearded one.”

As a professional counselor, Jake spends his days pouring into people who can do nothing for him in return. That’s truly selfless, truly honorable and truly Jake. Where I am quick with a rebuttal and even quicker with a joke, Jake is patient. He listens well and responds purposefully. I watched him from a distance at his recent grad school graduation. His classmates were drawn to him. Not because he is the “cool kid”. They are overrated, anyway. I’m sure they were huddled around him because they know that when they talk, he listens. That’s only one of the reasons I am honored to let him speak here.

You’ll appreciate his insightful observations below. When you’re done, make sure you follow him on twitter. The funniest tweets money can buy! – Eric

Tell a good story.

“How does a good story begin?”

“Umm...There once was this boy.”

“Ok, what’s next?”

“He was wearing one shoe.”

“Great. And then…”

This is an activity I do early on while working in group therapy sessions. We go around the circle, adding to the story one sentence at a time. Coming up with the next sentence, each person has an idea of a direction they want the tale to take. But of course, it doesn’t end up going where any one person is steering it on their own. With the story on its second or third lap around the room, Person 5 is able to say ‘But then he saw it was a Dragon!’ only to have Person 6 trump the line by saying, ‘But, luckily, it wasn’t a dragon at all, but a horse dressed in drag.’ This story doesn’t end until, as a group, we reach the ending. Needless to say, I’ve heard some good stories. And I’ve heard some great lines. These are the lines that bring the most laughs. However, the more I do this group activity the more I realize there are lines that I appreciate more than the zingers. Due to the flow of the story, Person 8 might be stuck with, ‘And so he walked...’ The Horse in Drag is great, but there’d be no horse or dragon if someone before didn’t make The Boy “walk on the green grass and around the brown wall.” A big chunk of my days are as boring as ‘And so the boy ironed his shirt.’ But I’ve learned to appreciate the mundane. It is there that I learn and develop the skills that enable me to hold my own when I see the Dragon, or Horse in Drag, around the corner.

Be direct and to the point.

Be direct and to-the-point.

Do the BIG thing.

You know those times when you’re stuck between two options of equal pull and can’t come up with which direction to take? It would take years for me to make these types of decisions. I can’t put my finger on why this is so. I’m just indecisive. (And cheap, but that’s only part of it.) But not anymore! Ever since a beating I gave myself for choosing the lamer of two options, now when I’m given a choice, I choose the bigger. For example, not long ago my stepbrother invited me to join him at a gun show. With guns. Lots of them. Miles and miles of thousands of tables piled high with millions of guns. I’m not sure if I either know or care less about guns. But it was either go with them or eat a Pop Tart and watch my dog stare at a wall. So I went. It doesn’t matter if it was fun or not. I wasn’t sitting at home wondering if I should have gone. Doing the BIG Thing has given me experiences worth writing about. And making these decisions within seconds and moving forward has freed up my mind to think about important things.

There’s no place like home.

Important things, you say? Part of the reason for choosing the gun show was because it meant time spent with a couple step-brothers. One flies helicopters for the Army. One is a businessman in Tulsa. The three of us don’t have much time together. The lesson is this. Whatever the activity, whenever the time, wherever the location, I want to be with the people I care about. This trumps the “neat” or “exciting” any day. I’ve been able to do some “cool” things in my life. Spending that year living on Mt. Fuji is nothing to shake a stick at. It’s not something I regret. Heck, watashi wa nihongo wo hanashimasu, for goodness sake. But after the honeymoon period and jet lag wore off, it was just me on this iconic volcano reading about my loved ones on Facebook. I hope you don’t hear me sounding ungrateful for this totally once-in-a-lifetime experience; this was a very important year for me. But give me an 8-to-5 job in Muskogee, OK, doing the mundane if it means I’m around you. Japan is overrated. So suck on that, Godzilla.

Know the difference.

There is honor in staying in a challenging and trying situation, riding it out through the dump, the cold winter times and the worst days. And there’s also a lot of wisdom in knowing when it’s time to quit. It takes courage to do both. I respect people who make the decision to do either.

Jump.

It’s okay to try new things. If I’m not careful, my natural tendency to be timid (and lazy) will come out of hiding. Pointing back a few notches up the list, I don’t naturally do BIG things. I don’t like doing NEW things all that much either. I’m comfortable flowing with routine and letting everyday happen. Whether this makes you cringe or not, I would almost be okay with working at the same job, spending time with the same people, eating the same things at the same places. I’m a creature of comfort and habit. I have been for a long time. But boy, has the excitement really kicked up this year! Being willing to break my mold, take a deep breath and jump in has allowed for things to happen that I would have missed if I’d stayed in form. I still move with caution, but also with wisdom and courage. I am willing to take more risks. The payoff is worth it.

All things for good.

I can’t deny that all things will work out for good for us somehow, someway. They have for me so far, and I have no reason to believe this will not continue. Example? One of the greatest things for me came from hitting a tree with my car and finding out about it a month later. That’s an entirely different blog. For right now, since “this” worked out, I’m confident other “bad” situations can be turned around as well. It about did me in, but now I’m going forward. If I live, then I’ll run with a limp.

It’s a hard knock life.

Jay-Z says to tell a story about a kid with a gun, but to not tell why he has the gun in the first place, is lying. I don’t encourage kids to walk around with guns. That’s not the point of this line, anyway. The point is, the Kid doesn’t wake up one day and just go get a gun. It is the background that leads to this: the danger of his surroundings; the actions he’s seen modeled since early on; the fear he has been burdened to carry around. These are the things that have boiled up in his past - and present - that led him to carry the gun today. This doesn’t excuse violence but it does help me understand. Empathy for this Kid comes quickly when I open my eyes to what he’s up against. This line of thought ties in directly to conversations I have with people on a daily basis. People don’t just wake up one morning and decide the type of person they want to be, or how they will struggle. We can’t tell what they’ve been up against as we bump into them throughout our lives. But knowing that they’re in the middle of a long fight helps me treat them with understanding and compassion. “Be kind to everyone, for we are all fighting a hard battle.”

Don’t worship idols.

It’s never worth it.

Walk through the valley.

“Mountain tops are for views and inspiration, but fruit is grown in the valley.” (Billy Graham) I will not spoil this with commentary. Thank you, God, for providing me with valleys. Thank you for teaching me in valleys. Thank you for showing me you’re with me in valleys. I will not be afraid.

2011 Lessons: Taylor Brown

For the past five years, Taylor Brown and I have collaborated on various projects at CIY. I have come to appreciate his insight and desire to beat up an idea until it comes out presentable on the other side. He’s one of my favorite creative partners. Starting next week, we’ll work together in the same office. I can’t wait.

Few people I know dare to press the envelope like Taylor does. The words he writes are so real, so out there, but also resonate so familiar that you find yourself thinking, I know exactly what you mean. Taylor speaks with emotion, writes with a desire to see truth bubble to the surface and drinks his coffee black. A true Renaissance Man if I ever saw one.

As if that wasn’t enough, Taylor is also one of my favorite singer/songwriters in the biz today. Is that what they call it, Taylor, “the biz”? Cruise over to his website and buy his music now. That place where your ears connect to your heart will thank you. That place, by the way, is known as your neck. Also, be a saint and follow him on twitter. Land Ho! – Eric

The Deck.

After six months on the road, I didn’t know what I wanted. So, naturally, I learned to build a deck. I tore the old one down and dug holes for posts. I raised joists and laid planks. At one point I held a board as my dad swung furiously against it. We needed it to fit in place. I looked out over the Blue Ridge Mountains, breathed deep, and felt the year slipping away. “I’m tired,” I thought. Then Dad smashed his thumb and blood exploded like a grape.

Have seen.

After wringing the blood from my shirt, I picked up Hemingway’s book on bullfighting: “A Death in the Afternoon.” In one chapter, Hemingway dryly discusses the different seating options in a bullring. Suddenly, you hear emotion come to his voice as he states, “If you have plenty of money (and) want not to see but to have seen a bullfight…” And he continues his instructions. I sat there, covered in blood, sweat, and tears realizing I’ve lived my life to “have seen,” not to actually see. I’ve traveled, related, and performed just to be the kind of person who has done it--not to actually be in life.

Run.

Self-care seemed the best place to start this life of truly seeing. So I strapped the running shoes on, slapped a knee brace around my leg, ran down my street, threw my fists in the air and yelled, “Adrian.” Then walked the fifty yards back to my house. Thus the turning point from shrugging off my existence to actually nurturing it.

Rest.

Sitting in my counselor’s office, I nervously crossed and uncrossed my legs.

“What do you do to rest?” He asked.

“I sleep sometimes.”

“Like naps?”

“Oh, not many naps. Just go to bed at night.”

“Yeah, you need to learn to rest when you are awake.”

“Right.”

I’m still learning. I don’t think watching “Walking Dead” counts, but I’m learning to simply be alone and free.

Redemption is a cruel mistress.

I decided I’d rest, run, get healthy. I wasn’t going to “have lived,” but truly live. This all sounds great until you actually do it. Then it sounds miserable. I’ve decided Redemption isn’t as nice as she looks in all her pictures.

The Monster.

Sometime later, I wrote a story about monsters with Eric. Beforehand, he sent me this article. “Above all, and it is the supreme characteristic of every monster who has ever been portrayed in a story, he or she is egocentric. The monster is heartless, totally unable to feel for others…” (Christopher Booker) I tilted my head towards the ceiling, and wailed, “I’m a monster!”

Roommates.

I learned that wailing “I’m a monster” from the room above your sleeping roommates is a hard thing to explain late at night.

Tone made Tea.

So, I went over to Tony’s house. He made me some tea. I told him some dark secrets, hung my head, and said,

“See, Tone, I’m a monster.”

Tony smiled at me and said, “Taylor, I’m glad you are setting goals and stuff, but it seems you’ve forgotten the key ingredient.”

“Crap, what did I forget?”

“The Spirit.”

Balance.

It seems every year is an endless battle to learn the balance between improvements and grace. To never let yourself give up or burn out. To never let your own improvement be what defines you. Just be. Let God do what God does. Do what you do. And always the two shall meet.

Where else?

Remember Jesus telling the crowds to rip into his flesh and gulp down His blood? The crowd says,

“Never mind, He’s crazy. He’s a crazy man,“ and they take off.

Jesus looks at the disciples and says,

“What about you. You aren’t going to leave too, are you?”

Peter gives a pretty awful answer.

“Where else are we going to go?”

John winces.

“You have the words of life,” Peter says.

I have felt what it means to be tired for various reasons. I’ve scratched my head at Jesus. However, for 2012 I’m opting for this lackluster answer,

“I have found no other place to go.”