I recently lost a hero of mine to Parkinson’s Disease. I was introduced to John in 2008 during a vulnerable season when I was desperately seeking a guide to help me see the reality of God’s presence among the poor. About 5 years into our friendship John began the ugly process of dying but with a degenerative disease like Parkinson's it felt almost impossible to fully face it due to its slow cruelly subtle nature of breaking the man down.
But when I finally received that call last week I felt the words of the Apostle Peter echoing in my soul, “Never, Lord, this can’t ever happen to you!”
John was like a real hero for me.
Real heroes never ask or require you to worship them. Jesus Christ never once requested his followers to do that shit. Heroes can be cool, but hero worship is not.
Real heroes are real human - trustworthy with deep character but scandalously human.
Real heroes creatively invite you to be the truest most soul-healthy version of you.
Real heroes do their best to prepare you for what lies ahead.
Being human means eventually facing the temporal and limited nature of our heroes. It’ll break you open, take you to the end of yourself, and leave you with a million questions. When we watch our heroes die a part of us dies too.
I’ve had so many conversations in recent years with friends who have lost a hero or a parent through their physical deaths or a painfully severed relationship. In many of these situations the words from the good therapists (and I’ve uttered them too) sound something like, “It’s now time to begin parenting yourself.”
A brutal reality.
I believe Jesus began his ministry by teaching his students to begin parenting themselves. When Jesus began his healing work he observed some ordinary fisherman doing what they do. Business was not good so Jesus offered some radical advice that went like this, “Go over there. Try the deeper waters.” They caught so many fish their nets began to tear.
Go further out and deeper down. That’s it. That’s all he said. Break out of your old routines and comfort zones. Move beyond the safe and familiar places. The good stuff is in the deep water.
In the shallows is where we outsource our true self on to the people we admire. The shallows is where our sense of identity is tied to external attachments that teach us nothing about who we really are or could be.
The deep water is scary.
Heroes go away. Parents go away. Jesus goes away. It’s terrible. Further from the familiar shore and out in the deeper more dangerous waters.
It's terrible but it's necessary.
Because that's where the good stuff is.
Just the encouragement I needed today, Ryan. Thanks, brother.
Posted by: Matthew John | February 12, 2020 at 09:36 AM
Yes, yes, yes. Truth. May it be read, digested and lived for the healing and health of all.
Posted by: eileen | February 12, 2020 at 09:40 AM
Thank you.
Posted by: Debbie | February 20, 2020 at 08:00 AM
You're welcome, Debbie. Good to see you again!
Posted by: Ryan | February 21, 2020 at 11:45 AM