These Are My Friends (Plus Momma Barnes Update)

On this blog and in various other ways, I have recently spent a lot of time expressing my wonderment at the community I’ve found in San Diego. Time and time again, so many of the people here have blown me away with their care, concern and appreciation for me as a person. From willingness to listen to me through emotional times, to thoughtful gestures and just hanging out and fellowshipping, everyone around me has consistently shown me that I am wanted. This week, many of them got together to give me an exceedingly thoughtful gift that will also give me a chance to introduce them to those of you that don’t know them. First, let me give you a little background.

We found out my mother’s leukemia had come out of remission last spring. Despite this fact, she not only supported me but insisted that I come out to live in San Diego and serve in Mexico. We treated the end of her remission as fairly run of the mill. She had been through chemo before, and our anticipation was that she would receive more chemo and go back into remission. About two months ago we found out that her leukemia had broken through her latest chemo treatments. We were shaken to be sure, and I shared my concerns with my friends and coworkers. They immediately went to work comforting me, praying and ensuring me that Amor would give me whatever I needed in this time.

Several times, the idea of a leave of absence was brought to me by both my peers and superiors. Initially, I didn’t really consider the possibility of having to leave, but within a week of many of these discussions, I had a talk with my mother. One of her biggest concerns was who would take care of my little brother Matthew while she was recovering from a possible bone marrow transplant (At this point, the suggestion had been made, but it was not a sure thing). For those of you that don’t know, Matthew has a genetic disorder which causes behavioral problems, development issues, autism and seizures. It quickly became apparent to me that it was not a coincidence that Matthew would need a caretaker and I was being constantly reassured that Amor could do without me for a period of time.

The necessity for a bone marrow transplant became clear the day before Thanksgiving, during our trip to Johns Hopkins, and the date for the transplant appeared to be in January. Since that time, we found that Mom’s white blood cells are not at appropriate levels for a transplant, so we need to wait for them to repopulate. While putting a bone marrow transplant off definitely feels like a victory, we have been thrust back into a vexing waiting game.

My mother’s health is my first priority, and I am incredibly thankful that I am in the position I am in. I have an extremely supportive employer that will allow me an extensive amount of time off. I am in a place where I am joyful and more capable of serving my loved ones. I am going to have the unique opportunity to connect with and love Matthew in a new and different way. Despite this, I am frustrated and somewhat frightened. I live on the complete opposite end of the country from my family and may have to leave for several months on very short notice. I am going to enter a very difficult situation and at the same time have to exit an incredible support structure. Being faced with one of the more challenging times in my life without this community by my side is daunting.

Knowing about my concerns and fears, several of my closest friends here asked what they could do, apart from keep my Mother, family and myself in their prayers. Revealing my insecurities, my answer was always a variance on the same theme: Don’t forget about me. In this one statement, I was really relating three things. First, that I knew it was going to be hard to go into this battle with out being near them geographically. Second, that they might not reach out to keep in touch and support me in this time of need. Third, that I was afraid they might not care as much about me as I did about them.

Their response to these thoughts, despite coming in a very small package, was overwhelming and resounding. Distance does not matter, they will be there for me and my family and they love me every bit as much as I love them, if not more. Three days ago, I received a scrapbook containing photos and thoughts from many of my favorite people in San Diego, assuring me no matter where I go and no matter how long I am gone that I have made an impact on their lives and that they love and support me. This is Clint’s “mobile affirmation” book.

Kamar: Brings class and toughness to the field, awesome teacher and friend, committed heart.

Sheri: Beautiful heart, awesome smile, somehow keeps up with the founders.
Wendy: Brilliant, compassionate, supportive, awesome sense of humor, potty mouth.

Andrew: My east coast brother, awesome sense of humor, loves all my worst qualities.

Joanna: Awesome taste in men, brutally honest, perhaps my favorite sense of humor, ever.

Erin: Calls me on my drama, great to work with in the field, beard hater.

Blair: Huge encouragement, beautiful eyes, he wants me, don't tell his wife.

Andrea: Always willing to help out, always smiling, recent goal scorer.

Ray: New to Amor, has the job I'm glad I don't, gives great high fives.

Dan: Elite hugger, hilarious, hard bitter outside, soft sweet inside.

Howie: Amor's resident sage, a wise, humble servant.

*Image edited for content - family friendly website*

-Courtesy of Dan

Janet: Sweet girl, put in a bunch of work on this project, doesn't like white russians.

Drew: This is my boy. Keeps me balanced, supports me, holds me accountable and serenades me some nights.

Jeff: Genuine heart, great to sit around a fire with, incredibly talented, awesome soccer coach, fashion plate.

Nick: Again, this is my boy. We share a trailer together, he listens to me talk and resists rolling his eyes, also a big talker. Awesome friend.

Cristy: Awesome woman, huge encouragement, beard hater.

Stacey: Fast becoming one of my favorite people of the century, constant affirmer, always positive, has room in her heart for more people than I can count.

Sarah: Super positive, works with disabled kids, cool girl, apparently likes Donald Miller. Me too.

Jon: One of the best bosses a guy could ask for, super cool, caring and protective.

Andy: Thoughtful, wise, and really fun to be around.

Jessie: Authentic, great guy, unique sense of humor, I have a feeling we're going to get real close.

Erin: Unbelievably caring and compassionate, constant encouragement.

Emily: Drew stealer.

Nicole: A blast to be around, calls me on my nonsense, also has a wonderful sense of humor.

Bobby: Lots of fun, used to ride a motorcycle, likes bikes, takes pictures, cooler than I could ever hope to be.

Jenn: Mastermind, incredible listener, wise woman, all around tremendous friend.

You guys all need to know you seriously rock my face off. You also need to know that if you love me and didn't make it in this book, send me a picture, I'd love to find more room.

Yes, these are my friends, and no, you cannot have them. How I ever earned a place in such a tremendous group of people’s hearts is beyond me, but I am so thankful that I have and I think it has something to do with God really loving me. And the truly incredible thing is that even after all of these people, I know there are many more and I have many friends and family back in Pennsylvania and Virginia that really care for me. To everyone in this book, and to all those on both coasts that would have liked to be in it but didn’t quite make it, thank you. Again and again you all have shown me that you care for me, and more importantly, you have been a reflection of Christ’s love. It is a rare, rare gift to have undeniable, physical proof that so many people value you. I think this may be the second best Christmas gift ever (the first one being the one that came on the first Christmas).

Adelante!

-Clint