Guideposts – August 2019

64 GUIDEPOSTS (^) | August 2019
But the answer lies deeper. All my
life, I’d been searching for a reason to
believe my life mattered. I was told the
opposite when I was growing up. “Stu-
pid.” “Lazy.” “Worthless.” I heard those
words a lot from my teachers—even
from my dad.
For years, charting an eclectic ca-
reer path, I wondered whether it was
true. It’s hard to explain how paddling
a kayak finally put those fears to rest.
I grew up loving the water. My fam-
ily owned a cabin by the Platte River
near Omaha. I played in the river and
in lakes whenever I could, paddling
around in a small rowboat. I liked tin-
kering with things and learned to re-
pair the rowboat myself.
Sounds idyllic, right? The rest of my
childhood wasn’t. I had undiagnosed
dyslexia and struggled in school. My
dad decided my bad grades were a
sign of my worthlessness, and he nev-
er passed up an opportunity to tell me
so. I was physically awkward, always
picked last for sports teams. Teachers
gave up on me.
I spent a lot of time alone. The one
thing I could do was build stuff: models,
rowboats. I loved sketching designs.
Working on a model or a boat, I was
safe from my dad’s disapproval.
I eked out decent enough grades to
get into a Lutheran college, aiming to
become a pastor. I loved God and want-
ed to help others. Plus, it was a job that
commanded respect.
Things turned out to be a little more
complicated. My dyslexia was diag-
nosed at age 23, which helped with col-
lege and seminary, not to mention my
self-esteem.
But a few months shy of graduation,
my wing of the Lutheran Church went
through a wrenching doctrinal split. I
landed on the wrong side of the split
and had a hard time finding a perma-
nent job. I shuttled from one fill-in post
to another. I loved the work, and to this
day I look for opportunities to use my
pastoral training. But it was not a sus-
tainable living.
I took a diesel mechanics course
and got some work on the side repair-
ing engines. After 14 years, I quit the
ministry altogether.
I
got married and found a full-
time job in the aircraft prototype
shop at a Boeing plant in St. Louis,
Missouri. I worked my way up from
sweeping the floor to helping design
and test models. It seemed as if things
were working out at last.
Then my wife, who was struggling
with depression, turned to alcohol. I
stuck by her for more than a decade,
until the drinking got out of control.
She and I divorced. A few years later,
I married Christy, whom I’d known
growing up.
Five years after Christy and I mar-
ried, we moved back to Omaha to take
care of my dad, who was dying. He nev-
er apologized for how he’d treated me.
I made the move out of duty.
Once back in Nebraska, I decided to
semi-retire, taking a part-time sales
and maintenance job at a boating
store. That freed up time for the one
A NEW YOU