Lies Between Us, Roger’s podcast episode #13

This episode is dedicated to my buddy Tyler and my friend JP. Two amazing young men, with endless possibilities but currently struggling to find their way… My heart goes out to you guys and all the guys and girls like you…

It’s hard, it’s always going to be hard. But in between the hardship, there is goodness. 

It’s hard, it might even suck, and we might even feel like it’s not worth it.

Many of us fear and fight the hard, we hide from the hard.

I feel you, and I bleed your pain.

I know hard, I have felt hard and I am feeling hardship right now, although you may not see it. 

You may be feeling hardship now too, but not be showing it. 

Many of us, we hide our hardship. We fear being perceived as weak. 

I have been weak. I have hid, but now, I try, not to hide anymore.

I try to stand out in the sunshine, even while crying, even while bleeding. 

Many times, I just stay busy, so busy you may not see my tears, you may not see my wounds.

My two kids, they tell me, come home now, quit. Come home dad. 

I give myself to others and when I do, it mostly helps me too. 

When we are hurting enough and say the word “help” out loud, I cannot cover my ears. 

When we recognize we cannot carry this weight alone and specifically say, “can you help me now?”, it is a call I cannot ignore, my personal hardship be damned.  

How bad is it, my pain? Bad, but not the worst. Hard, but not the hardest. 

Maybe you think your hurt, your pain, your suffering is at its worst. 

Maybe you feel helpless. Maybe, you even feel hopeless. 

Hope.

Hope might be a superpower. 

Hope might be a golden egg, from a golden goose, a magical and mystical treasure.

And if we think-think-think about it, somedays, hope is all we seem to have.

Hope that this too shall fade, and maybe even pass.

Hope that through tenacious effort, small movements, and readjustments, that we will triumph.

Hope to have the willingness, the courage, and the grit to get up every day and keep going.

And when we can’t keep going, we rest, but we don’t quit. We can pause and will try not to quit. 

How bad is bad, how much hurt is too much?

Is this bad - the baddest it has ever been, and the baddest it will ever be?

Will there possibly be moments or days or years of relief in between this bad and the next?

Is this hurt too much? Is it?

Is this the worst hurt you could ever feel? Is it?

Get a pen.

Get some paper.

At the top of the page, write these two words: Time Bombs.

List a numerical number one and I will explain how I sort out some of my pain and how I try to avoid being crippled from my pain, again.

It’s hard. I know it’s hard. I hope you find the willingness; I hope you muster the courage, and I hope you fight like hell to do your best you. There is more in you when you’re ready to draw on it, I know this to be true. I believe in you and I am here for you if you can say it out loud.

An account of one of my hardest years so far and a poem.