Tag: EBGGL

An Unimagined, Incredible Story Shared with Max

Max and I began walking, running, and trekking in April 2014, running my first 5K in Smyrna at the Jonquil Festival that month. This was my second effort at running. This time, I was hooked. I had a partner. Life was “running” along nicely for us both. Max was energetic and frisky. All I had to do was pickup his leash and he was ready to bolt out the door. In those early years we especially enjoyed night runs and treks. All was good. We watched for potholes in the streets, asphalt divots, uneven sidewalks, and drivers that weren’t watching for us. Then the unexpected occurred. 

In the autumn of 2015, doing routine bloodwork, my PCP found an elevated PSA. He suggested a prostate biopsy. I had no idea what was coming down the pike and his description of such was nowhere near the real thing — especially with Nurse Ratched.  I waited for the results, dismayed that the biopsy aftermath and its lingering effects had curtailed our running. Sometimes it’s good to not know what the future holds. Such was the case in those days. A fortnight later, whilst returning to the surgeon’s office, the bombshell dropped. I definitely had prostate cancer. The breath was sucked out of my world. My spirit was in the midst of a nuclear meltdown. It’s likely your life has experienced such a bombshell. You can identify. The doctor suggested that we watch and closely monitor the disease and discussed treatment options. I chose active surveillance. He said that I could slowly start to run, again, as I felt able. He warned me that it wouldn’t be easy. From Springer Street I heard Max whispered, “I’m near.”

I left the doctor’s office feeling dejected and alone. My plans lay shattered about like splintered shards of glass. Whilst I walked across the parking lot that morning, looking down, I saw a penny on the ground. I paused and picked it up. As I did, the thought came to me that this was a “blessing” reminder. Max and I had been picking up coins as we trekked. He would smile with each coin found and say, “Name a blessing — one for a penny, five for a nickel, ten for a dime. That day, I stopped, and with teary eyes named a blessing for which I was thankful — Max, my friend, my ever present companion. We could run, even if the pace was slower while healing from the biopsy procedure. Amazingly, the next day I found another coin. And, yet another, the day after that, and more in the coming days.

Each time a coin was found, we used it as an opportunity to name a blessing. Then, not long after that first coin find, I found a dime. Now, I had to name ten blessings. Seldom does a day go by that a coin isn’t found. Max and I have multiple jars filled with coins found while running and trekking. It has been an amazing journey with coins found in the most unexpected places. We see the coins as reminders that the blessings of the Holy One surround us even in the midst of uncertainty, illness, hurts, losses — even cancer and death. “Never quit. Keep moving forward,” says Max.

A cancer diagnosis changes ones world. It can crush ones spirit. Several months after the diagnosis, trying to outrun feelings of aloneness, fear, and abandonment, I was running to music when the words of the song, “Give Me Jesus,” penetrated my heart. Fernando Ortega was singing. Stopping at the traffic light, at the corner of Howell Mill and Collier Roads, I couldn’t help but just cry. The slow, drizzling rain mixed with my tears. The words of the song spoke of God’s love for us, but I felt so alone. Looking down, in the curb gutter, I saw a small disc (a washer), staring straight back up at me. I stared at it for a moment, then reached down and picked it up. Suddenly, Max whispered, “Encircled By God’s Great Love.” The song said 

it, the run echoed it. Scripture proclaimed it. The small round disc with a hole in its center, reflected it. “That’s us,” Max whispered. We’re Encircled By God’s Great Love (EBGGL) whatever life throws at us, whatever we face — even in the midst of a cancer diagnosis, even when the shroud of death wraps us. Before those miles were finished in that misty night run, we found a second disc. Another reminder that we are EBGGL. In an amazing way, as Max and I trekked and ran in the days ahead, more and more discs, and more and more coins were found. I began placing them in a small dish, which I would empty each Sunday evening before going to bed. Monday morning, my empty dish would begin to fill again. And, filled it has been every week since those days of long, long ago.

Max and I collected a shelf full of jars of discs of varying sizes, texture, sheen, and wear — each a reminder of the nearness and love of the Holy One — even in the midst of uncertainty, even in the heartache of death. Running has taken us into an unexpected world of adventures, new places, and amazing friends. But, most of all it has given me indelible and unbelievable shared moments with Max — my blessing.

On Saturday before the Sunday 2017 Chicago Marathon, I ran the warm-up International 5K. It was a great experience. After crossing the Finish Line, under a stunning blue sky, amidst the gleaming Chicago skyline, and near the sparkling waters of Lake Michigan, I was standing on a grassy knoll with a friend. Hundreds of people stood around us in that beautiful park along Michigan Avenue. I looked down, and there it lay, buried among the blades of verdant green autumn grass, I small silver disc. How did it get there? How did I happen to be standing on that patch of grass? How was it possible — in all of Chicago? Unbelievable! Then, as the gentle autumn breeze blew across my face from the waters of Lake Michigan, I heard Max whisper, “Encircled By God’s Great Love.” Yes, EBGGL.

On 12 March 2022, Max died. He succumbed to lymphoma, having lived two amazing years plus, beyond his medical diagnosis. I miss Max everyday. My heart remains crushed. Now, finding reminder discs on my own, I hear Max whisper, “I’m near. You’re not alone. We are EBGGL.” Every disc found is a whisper from Max. He use to say, “Let’s run.” Now, he whispers such with that same sweet voice and those precious eyes — and always perked ears. Wherever I run, be it road or trail; at home in Atlanta on Springer Street, a distant city, or a trail on a mountain or alongside a river, Max whispers, “I’m near. You’re not alone. See that disc? It’s a reminder that we are EBGGL. Nothing can separate us from the love of God — nothing.” Max says it. I believe it. Max and I experience it. We know. Run on! Run strong! Trek on! — blessed and EBGGL. “Reminders are all around,” says Max. And, Max knows!

With much love, gratefulness for your friendship and for sharing the journey —

12 April 2022. PS from Max and Vince — As you hold your simple bookmark may the disc always remind you that Max whispers, “You are EBGGL.” You can believe Max! “The red ribbon is a reminder of the scarlet thread through the Bible — from Genesis to Revelation — that you are EBGGL,” says Max. If you ever feel alone, discouraged, or adrift hold your bookmark with its disc found by Max, in days past, and hear him whisper, “You’re not alone. I’m near. You are EBGGL.” Believe it. Never quit. Always remember. Trust the Holy One. Thanks for sharing the journey with us. Romans 8:31-39. Proverbs 3:5-6. Joshua 1:9.