Tag Archives: hope

Today is Gonna Be a Good Day

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We know that we are children of God, and that the whole world is under the control of the evil one. ~1 John 5:19

We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. ~Romans 5:3

So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love. ~1 Corinthians 13:13

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Heart attack. Cardiac arrest. Lung failure. Ventilator. Induced coma. Paralysis. Physical therapy. Occupational therapy. Speech therapy. Heart failure. Heart pump. Heart transplant. Organ rejection. Whew! That was a long ride . . .

January 8, 2025 was a good day. A dear friend and role model called my name. I stood behind the wide podium. Over 400 Rotarians listened and watched slides of my ordeal pass by on a big screen. Heart disease is the world’s unmatched killer, I said. Not cancer. Not accidents. We can conquer it. What are we to do? Hope is the answer. Yup, I said that. Hope is the answer. 

Not whimsical desires we all crave when the chips are down. Not that hope. Rejoicing in suffering. Persevering. Building character. That’s the hope I talked about. The audience stood. Applauded. Gratitude filled my soul. “What’s next?” A shout came from the back of the room. I’ll walk to the elevator. Then take a drive to see a sick friend. The answer came from the podium. 

An hour later, I was on the other side of the hill. My dear friend had cancer. Cancer is #2! He was a mentor. A champion. A good man. He made the pressures of the ladder bearable. Even fun. He was dying. The doctor checked his vital signs. His family stood and sat in vigil. Morphine kept him comfortable. He was serene. He didn’t recognize me. My voice raised his eyebrows. Maybe he recognized me. Maybe not. I shared a funny story from the executive suite. He let out a faint grunt. Maybe he laughed. Maybe not. I held his hand. I thanked him. I’ll see him again. Not sure when. Not my call. 

Dinner with Sandra and the girls was nice. January 8, 2025 was a good day. 

January 11, 2025 was a good day. I climbed the ladder. Christmas lights had been up for a month. Climbing ladders gives me pause. Many years ago, a dear family friend fell from his roof after climbing a ladder. He passed from this life to a better one. It was sudden. It was shocking. Accidents are #3! I climb ladders anyway. It’s God’s call. When I climb, I’m extra careful. Not too high. On solid ground. Hooks and lights come down. One at a time. Don’t lean Eddie! I’m not 30 anymore. Break time. Back up the ladder I go.

Social media tells us that life is wonderful. Exciting! Amazing! John tells us that “the whole world is under the power of the Evil One.” Which one is it? Tinseltown is an inferno. God’s home on earth is submerged in ash and rubble. Wars of conquest are in fashion again? The Orange One is soon back in the saddle. His supporters say that God is by his side. Trump #2? Ha! Step down a rung Honest Abe. Lincoln is in second place. Their god isn’t the real God. Their Jesus doesn’t like the poor. The lame. The other.

Angelenos will ultimately rejoice in their suffering. Palestinians, Israelis, and Ukrainians will persevere. Americans will build character in the circus. Faith will lead the way. God is in charge. There’s always hope. And the greatest of these is love. Not brotherly love. Not romantic love. Not friendly love. God’s love is the greatest. Serving others is the greatest. “Love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another.” That’s what the real God says. No strings attached. You don’t have to be rich, white, and “Christian.”

Dinner with Sandra and the girls was nice. January 11, 2025 was a good day.

Nathan only had but one life to give for his country. I’ve had five! November 6, 1963. June 7, 2010. June 18, 2010. November 6, 2018. April 16, 2020. Four more to go. I’ll take one day at a time. Faith. Hope. Love. That’s the way. Life is exciting! Life is amazing! Not the social media kind. The hard kind. We are children of God. The kind to rejoice in suffering. The kind to persevere. The kind to build character. That kind. There’s always hope.

Today is gonna be a good day!

At a Crossroads

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Eddie García graciously shared his inspirational journey with our leaders. His relatable stories, wisdom, and experiences resonated with our leadership team and inspired us to continue performing at a high level. ~Rigo Topete, Regional Vice President Sales & Marketing, Comcast Pacific Northwest Region

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I nervously walked into a hotel banquet room full of sales executives and managers in Olympia, Washington. The group was named the top performing sales team in the Pacific Northwest the year before. Company executives expected the team to repeat as the region’s most prolific sales team by exceeding its record-breaking performance from the previous year. The stakes were high. The company invited me to share my story and help inspire sales leaders to meet the moment.

My pregame jitters came from the fact that there were 100 or so seasoned professionals in the room who had “been there and done that.” What could I say that they probably hadn’t already heard? I prepped tirelessly for weeks to make sure I would deliver a unique and meaningful speech. I decided to start my remarks by developing a relationship with those in attendance by telling a story about how their beloved Seattle Seahawks faced similar expectations and challenges the season after winning Super Bowl XLVIII in 2014.

Many in the audience shook their heads at that memory, smiled, and acknowledged my presence on stage. It was calming and gave me the confidence to share my story. I moved along and talked about the challenges of suffering a massive heart attack, living a decade with heart failure, and managing a heart transplant. 

I described how accepting God’s will is the foundation of faith and how rejoicing in my suffering led to hope by giving me the endurance and character needed to survive. Ultimately, it was unselfish love for Sandra and the girls that gave me the courage to fight day in and day out. The moral to my health crisis story, I emphasized, was how the power of faith, hope, and love carried me through that difficult time.

I urged the group to consider using that formula to lead their teams to another award winning year. They should have faith by accepting the fact that expectations were high and other teams were gunning for them. Rejoicing in that challenge would help them persevere through ups and downs, strengthen the team’s character, and turn hope into an action word, instead of an empty desire. I expressed how giving oneself for the sake of others is the very definition of love. By having each other’s backs, rather than infighting, unselfish teamwork would carry them across the finish line. 

When I concluded my remarks about 20 minutes later, the executives and managers rose to their feet in a rousing standing ovation. I was overwhelmed by the reaction and relieved that the mission was accomplished. After 30 minutes or so of taking questions, I headed to a table at the back of the room to sign books. I took time to talk with each and every person who wanted to share a story about family members with heart disease, cancer, and other chronic illnesses. With a story about conquering her own battle with cancer, one woman and I rejoiced together in our blessings.

On the flight back to San Jose, I reflected on the day and the meaningful conversations with amazing leaders. First and foremost, I felt gratitude for being able to touch the lives of others. I love being on stage and sharing my story to inspire people to persevere through life’s challenges. Another thought running through my mind was singularly selfish. Professional speakers make anywhere from $5,000 to $25,000 for doing exactly what I did in Olympia. My compensation for that appearance was nominal by comparison. 

Those thoughts and calculations came and went before landing at San Jose Mineta International Airport. Since that time, ideas about becoming a professional speaker have crossed my mind many times. My reasoning always begins with the opportunity to share my inspirational story with a wide audience and delves into potential financial gain. That’s where any further consideration of the idea slowly slips away.

I know what it takes to be a professional at anything, especially if the goal is to be the best I can be. It involves taking risks, hard work, and full commitment. At my age (60 years old) and because of the harrowing health journey I’ve endured, I’m just not sure I’m prepared to do what it takes to start a successful inspirational speaker business. I go back and forth in my mind analyzing the pros and cons of such an endeavor. So far, the cons are winning the day.

Recently, I became aware of a local organization in the market for an inspirational speaker. The proposed budget was around $7,500. The wheels in my head started turning and my stomach churned with excitement. I could do it, and for much less! I thought a second about offering my services before ultimately deciding not to speak up. I’m not sure why.

After thinking about why I didn’t make the offer, two things came to mind. First, the old imposter syndrome demons began to creep in because I wasn’t even considered. Maybe I’m not worth that amount of money and I’m just a legend in my own mind, the demons whispered into my ear. My previous speaking engagements told a different story. All audiences I’ve addressed react in the same enthusiastic way as the leadership team in Olympia. So maybe it wasn’t those old negative thoughts in action that kept me silent.

The second reason is that perhaps subconsciously I didn’t want to open a can or worms that couldn’t be closed. Could securing that speaking opportunity have been a slippery slope toward risk taking, working hard, and being completely dedicated to the work again? I’ve been down that path and it didn’t go so well for me or for my family. Nevertheless, the conversation put me in a self-imposed crossroads for a few days. 

I spent those days praying and reflecting on what really mattered. Was my ego tugging at my better senses? Yeah it was a little of that. Was it the potential financial gain? Yeah, of course. Who can’t use more money? Was it the fear that my inspirational story will never reach the masses? Yeah, that’s a biggie for sure. In the end, as always, it was faith, hope, and love that carried the day. 

If God wants me to be a professional speaker, He’ll let me know and I’ll do my part. In the meantime, I’ll rejoice in my suffering, fully accepting that I’m a great storyteller who isn’t on a big stage. I’ll persevere by seeking opportunities to speak at small gatherings and local events. Character, confidence, and commitment to the cause of inspiring others will strengthen my resolve and give me hope to keep sharing my story.

Between speaking opportunities, I’ll be home spending time with my family, washing dishes, folding clothes, and making dinner from time to time. I’ll also keep working on community passion projects by coaching emerging Latino and Latina civc leaders, teaching high schoolers about leadership, and advocating for my fellow transplant recipients. I’ll get in some reading and writing too. At the moment, this seems like God’s plan for me. I’m happy to do my part to fulfill His plan as best as I can, and I’m grateful that He guided me through the crossroads.

There’s Always Hope

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This is the third installment of ESEReport.com’s Second Chances blog series.

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Rejoice in our sufferings, because suffering develops endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope. ~ Romans 5:3-4

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On a sunny and crisp Thursday morning earlier this month, I sat outside sipping a cup of hot coffee at the Evergreen Coffee Company, a cool mom and pop coffee place near my house in San Jose’s Village Square neighborhood. A recent heart attack survivor and I were sharing war stories about open heart surgery, hospital life, and the emotional challenges of recovering from a major life disruption.

As the conversation turned to the heavy toll a chronic illness takes on mental health, he cut to the chase. “This thing is messing with my mind,” he blurted out. I wasn’t surprised by his frustration. It turns out that managing emotions has been the hardest part of my journey. Suffering a heart attack is life-changing. The more severe the attack and damage to the heart, the more your life changes. Confusion, fear, and anxiety set in before your mind can make any sense of what happened.

After sharing his frustration, he promptly asked, “How did you get through it?” I didn’t reply immediately. The short answer is that I haven’t gotten through it. It’s an ongoing process. I just take it day by day and follow the advice Winston Churchill offered to his country during the darkest days of World War II, “If you’re going through hell, keep going.”

When I finally responded, I thought of one word . . . hope. 

Of course, after a life-altering medical crisis, many ingredients are needed to develop stable mental health. A supportive family and an exceptional healthcare team are essential. Plenty of faith and a hearty helping of hope tie it all together. St. Paul the Apostle’s encouraging wisdom in Romans 5:3-4 keeps me going when the burden of living with chronic heart disease for nearly 15 years inevitably tries to exploit my anxious mind.

In his Letter to the Romans, St. Paul encouraged us to “rejoice in our sufferings.” I can understand how the thought of “rejoicing in suffering” sounds like a dumb strategy when facing impossible odds. That didn’t make sense to me when I first read it. But as I reflected on my battle with heart failure and subsequent faith journey, I realized that the 10-year road to a successful heart transplant was mapped out by Romans 5:3-4.

When I emerged from a medically induced coma caused by lung failure during the summer of 2010, my body degenerated and became weak. I had to re-learn how to sit, stand, walk, and swallow. Doctors told me that my muscles had “fallen asleep,” so I could regain strength with an intensive 8-week physical rehab program. When I was stable enough, they sent me to the Kaiser Foundation Rehabilitation Center in Vallejo, California (KFRC). 

The KFRC is a state-of-the-art facility. According to the 2023 U.S. News’ Best Hospitals study, the KFRC was selected as a Top 50 rehab program in the nation for the third consecutive year. Like great coaches, the physical and occupational therapists were relentlessly determined, yet empathetic. My competitive nature kicked in. My goal was to finish the program in less than eight weeks. I was pumped! I rejoiced in my suffering. I walked out of the KFRC with the aid of a walker three weeks later.

Even though I was walking again, congestive heart failure hadn’t taken a break. My heart was badly damaged, but I wasn’t a good candidate for a transplant for two major reasons:  (1) my heart was still functioning and (2) my lungs weren’t strong enough to withstand major surgery. I learned as much as possible about my condition to understand what needed to be done to give myself the best shot to get a transplant sometime in the future.

My cardiologist recommended that I eat a heart healthy diet, take meds, and exercise to keep my body healthy. It was going to be a long process with no guarantees. To be successful, I had to weather the storm of heart failure for an unknown amount of time. It could have been months. It could have been years. As my heart grew weaker, my lungs grew stronger. My suffering developed endurance. I lived with congestive heart failure for the next 10 years.

Getting through those 10 years was hard. It required lots of discipline. I had to take five pills, three times a day. Maintaining a low-fat, low-salt diet tested my will power on a daily basis, especially during summer barbecues and the holidays. Walking for just 30 minutes per day got harder as each year passed by. I’d always been able to stay disciplined when it was on my terms. When I made the rules. This time was different. My cardiologist made the rules.

Although this regimen was forced upon me, I gave up control and focused on it like a laser day after day, month after month, and year after year.  I stayed with it even as my heart became sicker. There were many days when the allure of unhealthy food, frustration about staying on a medication schedule, and extreme fatigue dared me to quit. I withstood the temptation. My endurance produced a strong character. My body was strong and ready for heart transplant surgery when I got “the call.”

Life comes at us fast. It could be a job loss, the end of a long relationship, or a sudden life-changing medical crisis. St. Paul the Apostle taught us that there’s always hope. Rejoice in our sufferings, because suffering develops endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope.

As we sipped our coffee, I recommended to my new friend that he seek counseling. It was indispensable to my recovery. He mentioned earlier that he’s a man of faith, so I also shared my story of hope based on the wise words in Romans 5:3-4. I’m not sure if it was helpful to him, but reflecting on my journey and the blessings that have come from it energized me. 

I walked home from the Evergreen Coffee Company with a spring in my step, a grateful grin upon my face, and hope in my heart.