Wednesday, December 27, 2006

OUR Heroes Who Live Among Us

Since 9/11, there have been television shows ("Heroes", "24", "Kyle XY", "Numb3rs") and movies ("X-Men", "X-Men: United", "X-Men: The Last Stand", "Superman Returns", "Batman Begins") about heroism. It seems that lately, a hero has been redefined by the entertainment media as someone who possesses special powers, received genetically or through evolution. I would like to propose that we are surrounded by heroes every day, not confined within the pages of a comic book or captured on celluloid. Here is a true story of such heroes which have appeared in my life. Since I haven't asked their permission to use their names, I have purposely withheld personal pronouns to protect their secret identity in the following narrative:

Well, it had been another typical holiday at my parents': miscommunications, raw emotions, yelling, tempers flared and lost, crying and an overwhelming urge to leave and return to Plano after having only been there 24 hours! Unfortunately, it was no different from previous holidays and other visits spent with them. Let me explain: I don't know the exact reasons why but my parents seem to seldom get along. Yeah, they love each other (or, at least, I think or want to continue believing so), but, for as long as I can remember, there have been less peaceful times than argumentative war zones since my childhood when my mother and stepfather married in 1971 (?). I know and theorise that some of the crises result from my stepfather's own upbringing and his hearing loss which occurred during his early childhood. I also theorise that my mother's own emotion-driven reactions to my stepfather's foibles don't help matters either. Thus, the war zone exists. I can only assume it resumes in my absence with few if any peace talks and fewer (if any) cease fires. While attempting in my own way to deal with the loneliness I had while in school (except for my best friend, Marvin), I also had the war zone and subsequent minefields to traverse when at home. My only recourse was shutting away myself in my room and bury myself in books, textbooks and homework, hoping for the one day when I would be away at college and life on my own. I sometimes wondered if I was somehow responsible, if my not being my stepfather's biological son was the source of attention (there were many times in which I also reacted emotionally to my stepfather's seemingly irrational behavior, especially during my teenage years!). While my mother insists my innocence and lack of responsibility in this unceasing war, I still have my doubts, even to this day! With my attending college in Dallas and subsequently finding employment and lodging there, my visits with my parents have been limited to holidays and a few others. Twice while visiting me in my lodgings, they attempted to launch into another war zone and I stopped it, informing them that on "my turf", warfare wouldn't be tolerated! Would I be as successful thwarting witness to future warfare by my refraining from holiday gatherings? I don't know how I have endured this long. While I do love my folks, the holidays and every visit is disruptive to what little peace I have in my life. I really want to just cancel Christmas with my folks this year and just have a quiet holiday alone (or, should I say, in a more quiet and peaceful environment!)

When I arrived at my favorite Starbucks just down the street from The Village Church, I journaled the above within the 4.25 hours' arrival time from their house. I felt spent, tired, frustrated, hopeless, emotional and lacking anything salvageable from my holiday. I just wanted to spend time with SOMEONE who wouldn't be yelling at me or someone I loved. For some reason, I felt the urging to call one of my Home Group's apprentices. After reaching him, we decided to get together after the evening worship service for coffee (later, we changed it to a quick meal of leftovers at his house BEFORE the service!).

Prior to my meal with my Home Group apprentice, I had several short but very encouraging conversations with several "heroes" and the few with whom I was close enough to share, empathised with my holiday experience.

During my quick meal of bowtie pasta and meatballs, my Home Group apprentice and I traded small talk and had a quiet meal. While it wasn't his invitation to a "homemade" meal or his personality which made the experience special, but it was his willingness to make the time for me and my humility to accept. It was the most memorable and peaceful Thanksgiving meal I had over the holiday and one I will remember and cherish always.


The heroes who live among us do not wear capes, leap tall buildings in a single bound, are not faster than a speeding locomotive or have special powers per se. They are our Christian brothers and sisters who are empowered by the Holy Spirit. They are ready and willing to help us with our hurts and tears, if we will only humble ourselves and submit to their help.

Sometimes, our heroes even take the form of doctors, nurses and chiropractors. I am thinking especially of my own chiropractic intern, JA. Here's a young man in his early 20's who is excited and passionate about what he is learning, his career and his interactions with others, both his peers and his patients. He has another year left before graduation and receiving his doctorate in chiropractic care, but you can look into his eyes and see the excitement of his future (JA, thanks for the encouragement during our "hang times" together; I so look forward to hearing and learning more from you!)

OUR heroes are closer than you think!

(Originally posted on www.myspace.com/jkirton2 on November 27, 2006)