Knight Life

Questions and Doubts

It’s been four weeks now since the screams of my wife pierced the fog of our illusionary tranquility with the discovery of our nineteen year old son, Caleb, lying in our back yard … dead. The shotgun next to him revealing his final desperate act of defiance against the demons that had haunted him for far too many years. I still hear Sandra’s cries, our cries, of unbelief and shock: No Caleb!  Why?  I can still see my other children looking on: stunned, trembling.  How does one comfort his family when he is devastated himself?

But now the question becomes: how do we go on?  How do we go on without our son, our brother, our friend?  How do we work or play or laugh or pray with such heaviness to our hearts? And how do I write a blog about heroism and faith and recovery from failure when I can see none of that in my own future?

Some would say don’t write.  Give yourself space, time heals all wounds. Of course, time will never heal this wound. The acuteness will fade and yes, days will seem less dark as they become once again shrouded in that illusionary tranquility, but that is not healing. And honestly, I don’t want that wound to heal.  I want to remember the chasm that has cut through my heart.  

Others tell us to talk about it.  I have and I do. It does help … some. But who really understands?  Even those who have also lost children, some just as tragically or more so than we have, they still didn’t know Caleb, not the way I did.  They don’t understand how I feel when I climb without him, when Sandra and I try to understand what happened, or why I miss his loud music banging upstairs.  When such an intimate part of you is taken, there just really are no words to explain that.

And then of course there is the ‘stay close to Jesus’ advice.  Good advice, really good advice. But as one who has given that advice numerous times, and has lived it through the death of another son, through multiple personal failures, and through far to many  other challenges, this time is honestly much harder.  Jesus has spoken to me. He has spoken words of comfort and words of hope.  He has listened to me rant and rave and cuss more than I care to admit. But I am also more aware than ever of how dangerous walking with Jesus is, and how high the stakes can be.  I am so thankful for His faithfulness in my fear, but this one is going to take time.

And so I write, not about heroism and faith and recovery, but about cowardism and doubt and loss; with many more questions than I have answers. That’s one of the things I loved about Caleb, he was never afraid to ask the hard questions and question the easy answers.

I’m not sure if I will recover from all of this or if healing will come unexpectedly at some time in the future.  What I do know is that I am not the same person that I was before that nightmarish morning … and I’m not sure that is necessarily a bad thing.


Following my bliss as best as I can,

David

Posted by david at 9/18/2012 8:12 PM

Follow Your Bliss, a Eulogy for Caleb Kortje


Caleb Andrew Kortje left a music video on his FaceBook page a few minutes before he died. It was the song Leave Out All the Rest, by Lincoln Park.
 
The chorus say’s ‘Forget the wrong that I’ve done, help me leave behind some reasons to be missed.’  It then goes on to say ‘keep me in your memory, leave out all the rest’.  It was his last plea. And as God as my witness, along with all of you, it will be my life’s mission as his father to honor that plea.  

And so Caleb, I, your father, forgive you for any wrong you have ever done, and I would ask you to do the same for me.  I love you Caleb, more than life itself.  If there was any way that I could trade places with you I would … in an instant. As your father, I would welcome you home and forget any of your wrongs.  I never have and never will hold those against you.

You don’t need me to help you leave behind some reasons to be missed Caleb.  There are hundreds of them already, posted on Facebook, Twitter, text messages and emails around the world. Still, I pledge to you that I will do all that is in my power to help you (it is such an honor to be asked to help you) carry on your legacy, to leave your mark.  I invite here the Holy Spirit of Jesus to strengthen me for that journey.  You will be missed Caleb, every single second of my life. As long as I have breath, you will be missed. Every time that I touch a rock, climb a route, drive a car, smell the morning air or feel the coolness of night, you WILL BE missed my son.

As for keeping you in my memory, how can I not.  The pet snakes in your room, the Boy Scout trips, wrestling matches, soccer games … and of course the climbing, oh the climbing Caleb.  I so loved those times.  They are seared in my memories, never to be erased through all of eternity.
Don’t worry about all the rest Caleb.  I understand your pain.  I understand your words, your anger, your distance.  They were never the truest part of you.  They were a demon, straight from the pits of hell.  I had already dismissed them long before you ever asked.  But thanks for asking, Caleb.  Your love for me in the face of your own death humbles me my son.

Caleb wanted another tattoo, across his chest.  It was his heart cry:  Follow your Bliss.  It is now my heart cry Caleb. I have scheduled an appt at a tattoo parlor to have your tattoo placed on my chest. And it WILL be heard around the world Caleb.
  
I will see you again Caleb ... but not now.  Until then, follow your bliss my son, follow your bliss.

To the King,

Dad
If you would like to help us carry on Caleb’s legacy, we have established a memorial fund to do just that.  
Donations can be sent to: 
Caleb Kortje Memorial Fund 
c/o Community National Bank 
14500 SW 20th Street
Benton,KS 67017  
Thank you.

Posted by david at 8/27/2012 7:36 PM

HERO Olympian

                                              
I love the Olympics. The competition, the pressure, the patriotism, the pageantry; all of it is just so exciting.  But my favorite part of the Olympic Games is always the stories. 

And there have been so many this year: Gabby Douglas, Michael Phelps, Jessica Ennis … the list could go on for pages.  But one young man that got my attention was 23 year old American swimmer, Nathan Adrian.  Overshadowed by greats such as Phelps and Lochte, Adrian has gone mostly unnoticed by the majority of Americans.  But not by those who know him.  They describe Nathan as intelligent, friendly, humble, and one of the nicest guys in the world. Even as he was interviewed for anchoring the American team in the medley relay on their way to gold again, his focus was not on his achievement, but rather on that of teammate Michael Phelps and his 22nd Olympic medal.

The 100 Free was all Adrian though. No American has won this race since 1988. When Adrian finished 1/100 of a second ahead of Australia’s James Magnussen and won the race, it took a few moments for the young American to believe his eyes as he stared at the scoreboard. And then he just let loose!   In third place at the 50 meter mark, this unassuming man swam the last 50 like a superstar, winning Gold and the hearts of all who watched.

It was just so … heroic.  Not just the race, but this man: his character, his love for life, his support of his teammates, and his absolute determination to give that 110% that it takes to be a champion. 

That’s how I want to live my life, with focus, commitment, fortitude, comradery … and faith.  Faith that I have what it takes.  Faith that my character does matter.  And faith that anything is possible.  

Jesus has promised all of the above.  He has declared that in him, I do have what it takes. He has offered his character and his heart as my own and that through him, I can do all things. 

My heroic path may not lead down an Olympic swimming pool, but it does offer me that same opportunity that Nathan Adrian seized: to give my all for something that I am passionate about, while loving every minute of the process.

To the King,

David

To learn more about the heroic path, or to order a copy of the book, visit our web site at www.yourheroicpath.com. 

Posted by david at 8/6/2012 9:34 PM

HERO Son


My first son, Joshua Daniel Kortje, would have turned 22 years old this past Saturday.  He died when he was 2 ½.

Sandra and I visited his grave this weekend; and with that came many memories of those two short years with him.  What I remember most was his smile.

Joshua was diagnosed with neuroblastoma, a rare childhood cancer, at the age of fifteen months. The year of chemotherapy, surgeries, and radiation treatments that followed were brutal. Multiple hospitalizations, hair loss, vomiting, infections and home intravenous nutrition repeatedly took their toll on my boy.  And yet, through it all, there was always that smile. 

It was a smile that said ‘I love you’, and ‘I trust you’, and ‘I need you to hold me’.  And it was a smile that said ‘no matter what my circumstances, I am happy to be here’. 

Sure, I know, he was only two, and Joshua obviously didn’t understand all that was happening to him.  But still I wonder: when I am given that life changing diagnosis, or that pink slip, subpoena, or late night phone call, how will I react?  What will be the bed rock of my emotions … of my faith?  Will I be able to look at my Father with a smile that says ‘I love you’, ‘I trust you’, and ‘I need you to hold me’, believing with all of my heart that ‘no matter the circumstances, I am happy to be here’?

Of the many heroes that I have in life, none have touched me as deeply as my toddler son Joshua did during his very short time with us. 

The truth is that we have all been given a terminal diagnosis. Our time here, be it two years or eighty, is just a whisper. It will be gone soon. Joshua taught me to live for the moment.  

It just doesn’t get much more heroic than that.  

To the King,

David

If you would like to learn more about The Heroic Path, please visit our web site: WWW.YOURHEROICPATH.COM 

Posted by david at 7/30/2012 9:24 PM

HERO Neighbor


If you haven’t seen the video yet, you need to.  A NYC bus driver sees a seven year old girl dancing on a third story air conditioning unit. It turns out she is autistic and likely didn’t understand the danger.  He could have called the fire department; he could have left to get more help.  He could have just gone on his own way.  But he doesn’t.  Stephen St. Bernard instead takes up position under the girl, praying that he will catch her if she falls. She does.  And he does.

My favorite part of the story was something this man said on a local news show that I watched last night.  He said that he wasn’t a hero, he was just doing what any man would do, reacting to a potentially deadly situation. 
 
I disagree.  Stephen is a hero.  Many men would have not risked like he did.  The girl could have broken his arm, his back, or even his neck.  Stephen risked his life and safety for another. That is heroic.

I would hope that I would do the same, but honestly, I can’t say.  I wasn’t there, it wasn’t my life on the line… my day being disrupted. But I can learn from Stephen.  I can learn that the first step in heroism is being available.  Life comes at us from a hundred different directions and at lightning speed. I need to slow down enough to identify the important from the trivial.

Next, I need to act.  You can’t over think such things. There are times in our lives when we know what we have to do, and we need to just do them. Jumping our minds ahead to all of the what-ifs and the why-mes, will only leave us standing in the background, an observer instead of a hero.

And then finally, like Stephen St. Bernard, our first conscious words need to be that of prayer: a reaching out to the One who created us to live heroic lives.  Our position in Christ is, after all, our truest identity as a man.

Can I be a heroic neighbor? You bet I can! And so can you, as you embrace the life that Jesus is setting before you minute by minute.

To the King,

David

Posted by david at 7/18/2012 5:40 PM

HERO Friend

A gentleman approached me recently at a book signing with a question.  He wanted to know how he could go about finding a mentor, someone to teach him and help him grow in his walk with Jesus. He had tried to find someone for a number of years, but to no avail and was asking my advice as to how he might proceed.  I loved his humility in seeking someone from whom he could learn.  It demonstrated to me that this man was serious in his pursuit of the life that Christ had for him.

Still, I told him to quit looking.  I suggested that instead, he should develop friendships with men, not on the basis of a teacher/student, but rather on the basis of experiencing life together, be that coffee, fixing the broken lawn mower, watching a baseball game, or sharing the deepest longings of both of their hearts. I told him that it would take time, and a lot of patience.  Men don’t have a lot of free time to devote to relationships.  Flexibility is key.

I have been blessed with a number of good friends in my life. Some have moved on, some have stayed, but all of them have helped me grow.  One in particular really stood out this past weekend.  

Jim and I met a number of years ago at a small men’s group in a church basement.  We had different theologies, different interests, and different wounds, yet something seemed to draw us to each other.  Jim helped me set up my first men’s conference.  I helped him carpet his living room.  We developed a respect for each others giftings and an acceptance of each others quirks. Were it not for Jim, I doubt Knight Vision Ministries would exist, and I would like to think that my prayers for him have strengthened his resolve as he has pursued a more traditional pastoral role.

This past weekend, Jim gave me the honor of celebrating the release of my latest book, The Heroic Path, at his church.  Although I don’t attend that church, it felt as if I were home among family. Everything was prepared by him and his congregation, every detail accounted for.  The night was all mine, I felt like a superstar.

Jim is my friend, and he is also my hero.  And that is what I told the man at my book table: find someone like that, allow God to develop the relationship, and you will grow deeper and stronger than any teacher can ever take you.

To the King,

David

If you are ready to start charting your own heroic path, please visit us at www.yourheroicpath.com. Watch our promo video, leave us your story, or order your own copy of The Heroic Path – Charting Your Course out of Failure and into Purposeful Living.

Posted by david at 7/5/2012 9:21 PM

HERO Boss



My youngest son, Josiah, just got his first job a few months ago. He is working at our local Chick-fil-A. I’ve never worked at a fast food restaurant, but talking to others who have, I don’t think I’d like it.  Josiah does.  In fact, he loves working there.

Part of his excitement I suspect is just the newness of the experience: his first job, a little income, some responsibility.  But a large part is also his boss, or bosses.  The owner of our local franchise is a godly man, and he has surrounded himself with a solid management team.  From day one he explained to my son and the other teenagers working for him exactly what he expected of them: everything from how to dress, to how to greet their customers, to who to call if complaints arise.  More than that, he is also very real with his employees, sharing inside jokes, taking interest in their activities, and even disciplining with respect and sometimes humor.  One of his managers has gone so far as to inviting Josiah and some of the others to his home for movie nights.  

That is heroic, for isn’t that what we all long for: another man to take us under his wings, to show us the ropes, to reveal the path to success?  Wouldn't we all love to have a man in our lives that believes in us and is willing to make the effort to help us believe in ourselves?  I have witnessed such an amazing level of confidence in Josiah since starting this new job.  If only all men could taste of that.

At some level, all of us men are bosses.  Whether it is running a Fortune 500 company, mentoring a new employee, or helping with batting practice during little league season, we all have others who are looking to us for affirmation and direction. In all of those positions we have the power to build up or to tear down. 

I hear so many complaining of this new generation that is trying to grow up, of how they are lazy, angry and apathetic.  The problem is that they have no heroes.

My son would probably never admit to seeing his boss as a hero, at least not in the general use of the word.  But to me, he is doing exactly what heroes do: giving of his life to others.  And in that sense, I suspect we could all be a bit heroic today.

Now, would you like me to supersize that for you?

To the King,

David

If you are ready to start charting your own heroic path, please visit us at www.yourheroicpath.com.  Watch our promo video, leave us your story, or order your own copy of The Heroic Path – Charting Your Course out of Failure and into Purposeful Living.

Posted by david at 6/27/2012 9:24 AM

HERO Strangers



They are some of my favorite stories.  Although they seldom make the headlines, if you look hard enough through your newspaper, or actually stay awake for the second half of the evening news, you will hear them.

The passers-by who jumped into an icy river to rescue a family trapped in their overturned car, the family who delivers Thanksgiving dinners to others laid off in our recession, the construction worker volunteering time to help rebuild a tornado devastated town, and the retired gentleman visiting shut-ins at the local retirement home.  Some are more dramatic than others.  Who will ever forget the passengers of flight 93 on that infamous September morning, foiling a terrorist plot and saving countless lives while giving of their own?  And then we have the more bizarre, like the motorist who recently stopped his car in the middle of interstate traffic to rescue a group of ducklings (I’m not sure if that qualifies as heroic or stupid   .

Regardless of the context, they capture our attention and force us to ask the question: ‘What would I do?’

What would I do if I saw a need but responding put me at risk, made me uncomfortable … interfered with my day?  What would I do if I didn’t feel qualified, experienced, or strong enough?  What would I do if nobody would notice if I just kept going?

Of course the truth is all of us have ‘just kept going’ at one time or another.  That’s what makes hero stories so heartwarming, because for whatever reason, under whatever circumstances, some chose to not ‘just keep going’.  Someone chose to take a risk, to change their stars, to not settle for the status quo. 

Now if you were to talk to those heroes, they would likely tell you that they too have had more than their own share of not stopping experiences.  So what made the difference in that moment?

My suspicion was that there was an experience of transcendence, of just being in the moment.  Whatever was happening, they recognized that this moment was of greater significance than all the other pressures of life and so they simply had to act.

That, I believe, is living the heroic life: that living in the moment, that choice to make the place that you are right now the place that you draw a line and you act.  As you do, God will begin revealing your own heroic path to you.

And who knows, you may stubble upon some ducklings that need rescuing.

To the King,

David

If you are ready to start charting your own heroic path, please visit us at www.yourheroicpath.com.  Watch our promo video, leave us your story, or order your own copy of The Heroic Path – Charting Your Course out of Failure and into Purposeful Living.

 

Posted by david at 6/20/2012 4:07 PM

Hero Dad


It was 1930.  The United States was in the clutches of the Great Depression.  Food was scarce, finances were tight, and electricity had still not reached the rural farmsteads that dotted the rolling hills of Pierce County, Nebraska.  That’s where my dad, Donald Kortje, was born.  His childhood years were marked by back-breaking labor on the family farm, nights studying homework by candle light, and winters stuffing hot bricks from the wood stove into his bed to keep warm. He speaks of those days with fondness.  I can’t for the life of me figure out why.

As a young man, dad joined the United States Air Force and served overseas during the Korean War.  Some of his closest friends are the men he served with.

Then upon returning home, he married Beverly Retzlaff, a stunning young lady from his home town. He worked hard to provide for his new bride, traveling the mid-west as a salesman for a food broker.  Soon they would start a family, but those hopes were crushed when the baby, a girl, was born premature and died shortly after birth.  A second pregnancy, again a girl, tragically ended with the same outcome.

That’s when I entered the picture.  A strong Christian couple, deeply rooted in family values, mom and dad decide to offer of themselves to someone who didn’t have that: me. At the age of six weeks, I was adopted.  They were so proud.  A local television station even did a story on the grand event.

Dad never had a lot of money, but what he lacked in finances he more than made up for in character and hard work.  Volunteering to organize and start our 4H chapter, dad taught me woodworking and gardening skills.  Although he would frequently be gone on the weekdays traveling for his job, the weekends were all he and me.  Grocery shopping, coffee with the guys and Friday night television westerns (complete with popcorn and Pepsi), are memories that I will never forget.

As I got a bit older, dad would take me on the road with him during summer breaks.  I was his ‘number one son’ (eldest) and would help him sell his products, stock grocery shelves, and share chicken fried steaks at the small town family restaurants where everyone seemed to know him.  

Evenings were my favorite though.  We would often get together with a couple other salesmen in our hotel room and play a few rounds of penny ante poker.  “Don’t tell your mom”, he would say .  One night, I got lucky and won about $5.00.  The next morning, going to breakfast with the man I had won the money from, dad suggested that I pay for breakfast with my new found fortune. He looked me in the eye and said, “Son, always take care of your friends. You never know when you will need them.”

Such was the wisdom of my dad.  He was and still is my hero.  He knew what it meant to forge his own Heroic Path.  

And I have been forever changed.  

To the King,

David

If you are ready to start charting your own heroic path, please visit us at www.yourheroicpath.com.  Watch our promo video, leave us your story, or order your own copy of The Heroic Path – Charting Your Course out of Failure and into Purposeful Living.

Posted by david at 6/17/2012 8:55 AM

So What Exactly Does a Heroic Path Look Like?


One of my favorite places in the early morning hours is a farm pond that we have in the middle of our small acreage.  As I sat out there this morning, preparing for my day and trying to reconnect my heart to that of my King, my eyes were captured by the sight of a handful of insects.  I’m not really sure what they are.  About the size of a fruit fly, these micro creatures tend to swarm in tight-knit bundles.  I watched as their unrelenting acrobatics produced a dance reminiscent of a great ballet, in and out of the group, swerving, diving, and banking with perfect precision. 

The thought struck me: just like me, God created these pollen sized performers. How did He even knit those tiny wings on, or wire their microscopic nervous systems.  It didn’t matter; I was just enjoying their beauty, their glory.  And they were living in their glory.  That dance was their heroic path.

Too often we equate heroism with great acts of valor. And it is true; heroes tend to generate great acts of valor. But it is not the act that makes them a hero.  It is the heroic path that they have been following all of their lives that naturally leads to the consequences we read about in the newspapers. 

Each of us likewise, of much greater value than those insects that I observed, has a unique dance that is ours alone.  It was placed in us and planned out for us from the moment of our conception.  Maybe it is leading a squadron of Army Rangers, or orchestrating a Broadway musical.  It could be equipping men or women or children to live their own lives of greatness, or simply holding the hand of a dying man as he steps into an entirely new realm of eternity.  Maybe your heroic path leads you to demonstrate unconditional love to someone who is not so easy to love, or bring a smile to the face of one who has forgotten what laughter was.  Or it may simply be dancing with others who dance, producing your own great ballet.

I don’t know what your heroic path looks like, but I can tell you what a heroic path looks like: it looks like a man living the life that is his to live.  No one else’s, just his.

If you are ready to start living this heroic life, I am just getting ready to release a book to help you find that.  You can watch our Heroic Path trailer here or you can pre-order The Heroic Path here.  For a limited time we are offering these for only $11.99 each. It will be in the mail to you in just a few weeks.

Thanks, and never stop exploring your own heroic path.

To the King,

David

Posted by david at 6/5/2012 8:49 PM
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