This is the first post of ESEReport.com’s Second Chances blog series.

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The Lord is not being slow in carrying out his promises, as some people think he is; rather he is being patient with you. ~ 2 Peter 3:9

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It was sometime in late May 1977. I sat in a classroom at Joseph George Middle School in east San Jose fidgeting in my seat nervously waiting for my turn. I was in the eighth grade, a few weeks away from middle school graduation day. In addition to the traditional valedictorian and salutatorian addresses, a student would be selected to give a speech about campus life. I was one of about six students who tried out for that role.

With Dad’s help, I worked hard on drafting my comments. I wasn’t the smartest kid in school, which explains why I wouldn’t make either of the customary academic achievement graduation remarks. Neither was I one of the most popular students. The other five or so at the tryouts fit into that category. But even as an immature 13 year old boy, I was ambitious and took on challenges that stretched my natural abilities.

Since I loved to read, I worked meticulously on every word looking for an advantage over the popular kids. Dad, who was also a prolific reader, suggested some pretty fancy words that would surely make me sound more sophisticated. Once the final draft was finished, I still felt unsure about being able to stand out. Dad had a brilliant idea. Rather than reading the speech, he suggested that I should memorize it! I practiced and practiced.

When one of the teachers serving as a judge called my name, the nervous tension made me nauseated. As I walked up to the front of the room, a wave of anxious warmth wrapped around my head. My trembling hands placed the written speech on the lectern, just in case I needed a reminder of the words I memorized. When I looked up, there were three teachers and about six students staring at me. My head and flushed face were now in full-fledged nervous fever.

I forgot everything I had practiced. Not one word was coming to me. I looked down at the piece of paper to jog my memory. Nothing! My heart was beating so fast that I thought it would jump out of my chest. I decided on the spot to read my remarks. That didn’t turn out much better. My mouth was so dry that I’m sure no one could understand the stuttering sounds that came out of it. The performance was a complete disaster. I was so embarrassed that I cried when Dad came home from work excitedly asking me how it went.

I was convinced that speaking in front of people would never be in my future. Nevertheless, life went on. In high school, I wasn’t so bad at what we called oral reports in those days. After I flunked out of my first try at college, I coached middle school and high school baseball and basketball. I did just fine with the pre and post game speeches in front of the kids. Speaking to parents at booster club meetings and end of season banquets was part of the job. I did just fine with those too.

In 1989, James Lick High School named me Coach-of-the-Year at an end of year ceremony. The disaster that was 1977 didn’t even cross my mind when I walked up to the podium to deliver an acceptance speech in front of about 200 people. When I returned to college in 1991, I enrolled in a public speaking course primarily because it was a required class, not that I was interested. The professor noted that I was a natural public speaker. His confidence in me was inspiring. In class, I developed the skills that would make speaking in public the foundation of my career.

So what happened between 1977 and 1991? If the professor was right that I was a natural, why was my first attempt at public speaking so awful? How did I improve without any formal training during those 14 years? The likely answer is that life just has a way of working itself out. Life experiences gave me a bunch of opportunities after 1977 to use this natural ability. College gave me the tools to make the most of it in my career and community service. 

I believe that God is the architect of life working itself out. In correspondence with people who lost hope, St. Peter’s Second Letter emphasizes, “The Lord is not being slow in carrying out his promises, as some people think he is; rather he is being patient with you, wanting nobody to be lost and everybody to be brought to repentance.” God was surely by my side in that Joseph George Middle School classroom. Although I badly wanted to speak at graduation, God let me know that I wasn’t ready.

St. Peter’s Second Letter reminds us that God is in charge. God gives all of us natural gifts. Most times, we never recognize or accept that we have them. Sometimes we use them for good and sometimes we use them for wrongdoing. Sometimes we don’t use them at all. “Wanting nobody to be lost,” St. Peter’s letter also provides hope that God gives us second chances when we don’t get it right the first time.

I believe in second chances. It’s taken me four decades and many second chances to understand. It started with the opportunity to return to college after the initial failure. After two failed bids to serve in public office, I earned a seat on the school board with a third attempt. When a massive heart attack threatened to end my life and a heart transplant saved it, God’s grace allowed my journey to continue. I’ve been blessed with a lot of second chances. 

These experiences have taught me three things: (1) We all have natural gifts. We just need to be patient and give God a chance to reveal them to us in his time. (2) We’ve all had second chances in life. We just need to slow down a bit to recognize and reflect on them. (3) We all could use as many second chances as God provides. This world is unforgiving. The sun rises every morning no matter how the previous day treated us. Everyday is a second chance.

I shared my health crisis and the beginning of a spiritual and mental health journey in my 2022 book, Summer in the Waiting Room: Faith • Hope • Love.  On this blog, I plan to spend a good portion of 2024 digging deeper into how strengthening faith and focusing on mental health has had as much a dramatic impact on my life as the heart attack and transplant.

I’ve been doing my best (mostly unsuccessfully) to live with faith, hope, and love. I’ve also been trying to practice meditation and mindfulness (mostly unsuccessfully) on a daily basis. Although I have a long way to go to fully embrace these ancient and proven ideas, I’ve found that my life is becoming more meaningful as I continue to explore the mystery of faith and the inner sanctum of my psyche.

I’ve come a long way from that classroom at Joseph George Middle School 47 years ago. Recently, I had a chance to use for good what the professor said 33 years ago was a natural ability. At a national press conference in Washington D.C. last month, I had the honor to represent heart transplant recipients. I just hope my remarks did my fellow transplant warriors justice. You can see a short clip of that speech here. 

Thank God for second chances.