2018-part 2 The Bottom Drops Out

Posted on by jactucke

*This is Part two of a possible four part series on “2018.” If you haven’t read the first one yet, here is the link. Go back, read it, then come back for this one.*

Well, well, well. You’re back! I promise this second one will be just about as gut wrenching as the first one. But the biggest takeaway is that God reached out to us through the darkness and comforted us. That’s the only way I can keep saying confidently that everything is and will be just fine. Now, on to the next week.

Just before dad passed, probably the month prior, we found out that we were going to have another kiddo! Oh happy day! It takes an act of Congress for us to get pregnant and we did it all on our own this time! It was so stinking amazing! In the middle of the stuff going on with the Wildman, we had a flicker of light and joy.

The day after dad’s funeral, we went for our first sonogram in Lubbock. We got into the office and sat in the waiting room with nervous excitement. We had joy in this rough time.

Our tech called us back. She squirted the goop stuff and got to work. We had shared some baby experiences with this tech before, actually with both of our prior pregnancies. The mood went from light to a little more subdued and finally somber. She asked where we were in our pregnancy. Jeg told her and she nodded her head.

Honestly, her voice turned into Charlie Brown’s teacher then for me. Jeg can explain this part better than me. I immediately knew something wasn’t right. We had to sit on this vague visit for a week before we got any kind of answers. It had to be one of the most agonizing weeks that either one of us had to date (mind you, my dad had literally died the week before.)

Our doctor told us that our baby stopped growing in the weeks before the sonogram. We had miscarried our new kiddo. That information flooded my mind and buried me under the surf. I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. And that was just me. It doesn’t even come close to what Jeg was feeling.

They told us that Jeg would pass the baby naturally. So we got to play the waiting game all over again. I dealt with it by not really dealing with it. I’d talk with my buddies Scott and Tanner and try to explain my feelings, but it was just tough. Yeah, Jeg and I talked about what was going on too, but we didn’t get very deep. How could we? We were walking on the edge of this knife waiting for the final slice.

We decided that some kind of change was needed. We had to snap this stupid funk that the devil was trying to put on us. So we did what anyone who was completely overwhelmed with life and put our house up for sale. 😳

The day our house was being shown to the eventual buyer, something happened. It was roughly a month-ish after the sonogram and Jeg started bleeding. Not, “Oh no…I’m bleeding” but “Holy crap, you’re bleeding…like a lot.” And guess where I was? Two and a half hours away on a pipe recovery job.

When I got that call, my mind flashed back to a month prior when dad died. It was just fear that washed over me instead of peace. I might have kept it cool on the outside, but I was 100 percent afraid that I was gonna lose my best friend.

I thank God every day for the folks I was working with that day. My engineer and company man caught wind of what was going on and they shut down the job and we took off to Levelland. Both of them had been exactly where I was right then and they knew how important it was for me to be there at Jeg’s side.

Another big blessing was that NanaMary, Jeg’s stepmom, was with her until I got there from Odessa. She got her to the ER in Lubbock and threw her weight around to get her admitted. (Not exactly sure how that went, but I just know Mary was all momma bear status and it was awesome.) The attending doctor (who was a former OB/GYN) examined Jeg and said that she was hemorrhaging and part of what was supposed to be passed was still attached and causing the massive bleeding. If she hadn’t gotten there when she did and gotten help, she would have bled out. That was all before I even got there.

When I arrived, all the major excitement was over. We were just left with the weird emotional hangover that I guess comes with narrowly avoiding death. We were discharged and we went home. Just like that, it was all over.

Well, it wasn’t over. It was all just the beginning of us picking up the pieces of our life all over again and handing them to God to do something with. Patch us back together, throw us back together, just do something. We needed something. Some kind of answer to all the pain that we were walking through.

We’re pretty private people. We spent many years in the spotlight and under a microscope through ministry work. This wasn’t a story that we wanted to tell people every other week and it sure wasn’t a story to be told through a game of telephone. The help and support might have been there, but it sure didn’t feel like it. We were treated like we had the plague from most folks. It was just a level of loneliness that we had never experienced before

People who have gone through losing a baby will understand what I’m saying here. Nobody really knows what they need to say or even what they can say. I can say confidently on my end of things, that I was lost and just flat out sad. I didn’t know what to say to my wife, who was absolutely wrecked. What do we do?

Well, we got up and went to church. We sought after God. We figured out what He said about our situation and tried our hardest to apply it.

Second Samuel 12:16-24 talks about David losing his son. Now, this is due to him jacking around with Bathsheba, but his kid gets sick and he goes into mourning and the child dies. After the boy’s death, in verses 23 and 24 he explains what he’s doing.

“But why should I fast when he is dead? Can I bring him back again? I will go to him one day, but he cannot return to me.” Then David comforted Bathsheba, his wife…”

We can’t turn back time and change what happened. All we can do is have our time of mourning and grief. Then, trust that God has got our kiddo there with Him and know that we will go to see them one day. That’s it.

Like I said in the last post, over time things heal and change, but nothing ever goes back to the way it was. Just like in the loss of my dad, this loss left a hole. A little, baby shaped hole. When you really think about it and focus on it, a whole life is supposed to be in that hole. But you have to realize that the only thing you can fill that hole with is the peace and comfort that only the Holy Ghost can bring you. In John 14:16 it says, “And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Helper (Comforter, Advocate, Intercessor—Counselor, Strengthener, Standby), to be with you forever—” That’s the skinny of it. The only way y’all make it through.

I realize that there is still a ton of unpacking to do in the situation, but that is the barebones of it. Trust that God is still going to have your back. Trust that He is faithful and He is able to do exceedingly and abundantly more than we can even ask or think. Trust that He is going to lead you and your family out of this valley and back to the mountaintop in His glory.

Phew! That was heavy. It’s so tough writing about this because you wind up revisiting and rehashing it all over again. But this is gonna bless someone. To know that someone went through it and made it out is going to encourage somebody out there.

Thanks for reading folks. Stay tuned for part three of “2018” because the hits just just kept coming that year. Y’all stay safe out there.

2018 – The End Was the Beginning

Posted on by jactucke

Man, it’s been a while! Life has been busy since the last time we talked. The oilfield has done it’s thing. The pandemic has done it’s thing. And politics have done their thing! Ha!

I wanted to talk to y’all today about a year that was a turning point for me and my family. It’s gonna be pretty heavy, but know this: God won. Because He always does. It got extremely dark for a while, but God was always there.

Let’s start in the beginning. A little bit prior to February of 2018, my dad, the Wildman, was diagnosed with two types of non-Hodgkins lymphoma: Large B Cell and Follicular. Now, one of these was curable and the other could be controlled and maintained. He had gotten to “ring the bell” and the everything went into remission the Summer of 2017, but the dragon came back with a vengeance in the Fall.

He was tired of fighting. He and my mom had to live in Houston close to MD Anderson so they didn’t wear themselves out driving the seven to eight-ish hour trip weekly. Time and poisonous radiation had taken their toll on the Wildman and when he was told that it was back, he tapped out. He was ready to be in his own home and finish the fight there.

The last time I saw my dad alive was a couple weeks before he passed. I was coming back from a job in Woodward, Oklahoma and was able to stop and spend a couple days with him and NanaRita. Wildman was a shell of his former self. My once jovial dad had been reduced to skin and bones. He couldn’t really move a whole lot without help. He had already begun to not eat as much and drinking was a chore as well.

My plan was to spend a day and then head back for work. But when I went to hug goodbye, he wouldn’t let me go. We cried together for a while. He was scared and so was I. I got to the end of the road and turned right back around. I just couldn’t leave.

We sat and watched his favorite cooking shows, just soaking up one another’s presence. I hurts my heart just thinking about it, but I still have the joy of that time, if that makes any sense. I left early that next morning to start off my work week again. I went not fully realizing but half-knowing that I wouldn’t get much more time with him.

A mere two weeks later, I get a call from my oldest brother, James. I was on day 14 of a stuck drilling rig that had just been a tough sucker. He tells me I’m gonna need to get some relief because Dad wasn’t going to last much longer. As the ladies on Crime Junkie say, I had full body chills all the way back to Levelland. James calls and says I can hold off until the next day to come. So I get to spend a few hours with Jeg and the girls before I head their way the next day, Valentines Day.

You know, you always folks talking about those “never forget” moments. The moments where you know exactly what you were doing when a certain event happened. Valentines Day 2018 was one of those moments for me. I had gotten on the road early to make the two and a half hour drive the next morning. I got to Lorenzo, about 40 minutes into my drive, and I got the call. I had stopped in to grab a quick bite at the local Allsups. When I hung up the phone, my stomach was rolling around my feet like a quarter. The Wildman was gone.

The ensuing days were a blur. Comforting my mom, my brothers, and my family was my primary function of course. It’s just hard to describe the feeling of that kind of loss. Those who have been through it completely understand and those who haven’t have been spared.

So many people told me how awesome my dad was. I heard, “They don’t make anyone like that anymore.” “Your dad was definitely one of a kind.” “He was the best man that I ever knew.” “Nobody ever had anything bad to say about your dad.” It was just surreal hearing folks refer to him in the the past tense.

You find out who really cares about you when you’re in these dark places. We had numerous friends make the trip to love on us. (Thank you for that by the way.) Phone calls and food were in abundance. It was just amazing. Then, on the following Sunday, we laid him to rest and the challenge of grieving began.

I’ll use a whole other blog to write about the grieving process because it’s just too complicated to include here. It just came wave upon wave. I’m thankful for my wife, who just loved on me and my mom the best way she knew how. And my sweet kiddos. Goodness, those girls are incredible.

I was back to reality by Tuesday and it just sucked. I had a peace that he was in Heaven with Jesus but it didn’t help that he wasn’t here. That being said, you never really get over that loss. You just lean into that peace and comfort that the Holy Ghost gives you. (More on this later.)

A verse that I really took in during this time was Psalm 34:18 – The Lord is close to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. The cool thing about God, is that He hangs out right there with you. Right there in your hurt. You may be a slobbering mess, but the HG…He’s got you.

Time heals all wounds, they say. Who is they? I’m not exactly sure, but that next week…the wound from my dad’s death was about to ripped open and exposed all over again in the form of another set of tragedies.

But that’s gonna be next week in part two of “2018.” Feel free to leave a comment of encouragement or even a snippet of your own story. Y’all stay safe out there.

Drifting Away

Posted on by jactucke


The other day whilst parousing the depths of the Internet, I glanced at an article that I thought was click bait. You know, one of those sites that has the super attractive headline, only to have you wade through an endless stream of ads for testosterone booster and that one fruit that is a miracle cure. 

Anyways, I moved on without clicking. But yesterday, my wife sends it to me. This time, it was from the Independent Journal Review. The headline read, “Christian Pastor Rob Bell Suggests Ignoring the Bible to Help the Church Stay Relevant.”

Excuse me? As I read further, Mr. Bell and his wife were on Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday special talking about homosexuality and the church. When asked if the church closer to accepting homosexuality, he replied:

“I think culture is already there and the church will continue to be even more irrelevant when it quotes letters from 2,000 years ago as their best defense…”

Let’s stop right there. To even think that a pastor…of a church…who pours into thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of people…suggested to ignore the Word in order to “accept” people in their sin. 
But this isn’t the first time Mr. Bell has raised eyebrows. In his book, Love Wins, he dismisses the idea of Hell to make Christianity a little more attractive to new believers. But let’s get back to where our journey started. 

Bell implies that the Word is becoming too old to be relevant in our changing world. I guess that since it doesn’t mention smartphones and the Internet, people nowadays won’t be able to relate. 

Homosexuality seems to be a touchy subject within the church. Bell suggests changing or moving beyond the Word to meet people where they are, even if it means accepting their sin. My issue isn’t with his stance on homosexuality, it’s with his dismissal of the Word with such ease. 

The Word warns us about adding or taking away from the text. In Proverbs 30:6, it says, “Do not add to his words, or he may rebuke you and expose you as a liar.” In 2 Peter 1:20-21, it says “For no prophecy was ever produced by the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit.” And numerous others from Revelation and Deuteronomy talk about not adding or subtracting. 

You can even argue that Mr. Bell is merely saying to ignore the scripture’s stance on homosexuality, not the entire Bible. Well, that’s like taking an Exacto knife and cutting out the pieces that you don’t like, effectively making it your own personal version of the Bible. But there’s a scripture for that as well. 

Take 2 Timothy 3:16-17. It says, “All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful to teach us what is true and to make us realize what is wrong in our lives. It corrects us when we are wrong and teaches us to do what is right. God uses it to prepare and equip his people to do every good work.” That being said, EVERYTHING in the Word is useful. EVERYTHING is meant to teach and instruct us how to live. That doesn’t say “take this out when society changes.” 

Society is gonna change. Cultural norms are gonna change. But as Christians, we are given a book that defines our right and wrong. It literally lays out the framework for a great life. There most beautiful thing about it? It doesn’t change. 

“The grass withers and the flowers fade, but the word of our God stands forever.””

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭40:8‬ ‭NLT‬‬

Mr. Bell, I can see where you are going with your view, but I can confidently say that you’re off base. The thing that stinks about this is that you were given a platform and you told everyone to just ignore what you have been teaching out of for decades. 

What I would like to encourage you to do is get in your Word. Start off in John and explore the story of Jesus. Find out what He’s done for you through His sacrifice on the cross. It’s through that sacrifice that you can receive salvation and begin to walk with God as it was intended from the very beginning. 

Thanks for the read. Please feel free to comment below and do me a favor, like and share this with your friends. Y’all be safe out there. 

The Ballad of the Crybaby

Posted on by jactucke

  
I hate complainers. Well, hate is an extremely strong word. I guess strongly dislike would be more of the case. 

Everybody knows that one person who is the belly-acher. The one who always has something to say about something. There’s always a problem and they can always either do it better or they just want to make snide comments about what’s going on. 

I generally consider myself a pretty easy going person. There aren’t too many things that bother me and if they do, I generally say something about it. But lately, I have noticed that I have been one of “those people.”

It crept in throughout various aspects of my life. I first noticed it when Jeg asked me to do something at the house. I would scoff and grumble at even the most menial of tasks. (I mean, how hard is it to get a glass of water?) Then I began to notice it in my work, my friendships, and it began to creep into my worship. That was the breaking point. 

When I started writing this, it was kind of hard because it was something that really preached to me. Isn’t that how it usually is? Something that we have a problem with is exactly what we don’t want to talk about, but it is exactly what we need. 

You see, when you begin to complain within your worship or even at your church, you put a rift in your relationship with God. You cease being Christ-like and become what He warned against. In Philippians 2:14-16, Paul tells the church at Phillipi “do all things without grumbling or complaining so that you may be innocent and blameless…within this crooked generation.” This statement has rung true throughout the ages and is just as relevant now as it was then. 

The Greek word translated “complainer” means literally “one who is discontented with his lot in life.” Was that me? I don’t think I’m “discontented” with my life. What I needed to do was to get back in check and it wasn’t something that I could do myself. 

The Word tells us in Ephesians 4:29 that we should “let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.” So, is complaining corrupt talk? Yeah. Does it interfere with our worship? Oh yeah. Does it build up? Not one bit. Does it fit the occasion? Sometimes, but complaining never builds up the situation. 

I know there are times where people believe that their comments are warranted and they attempt to justify it by saying “well, it’s the truth.” Even if your complaint is the “truth,” does it build up? Nah, probably not. 

Romans 12:2 says “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” We need to allow God to come in and actually transform our minds and entire being. 

So today, allow God to work on your grumbling, your belly-aching, and your overall attitude. Renew your mind and spirit in Him  to rid yourself of complaining thinking. 

Thanks again for reading both internationally and here at home. As always comments and shares are appreciated. Y’all be safe out there.