Jordan Wilhite

It was around noon when Becky called me, panicked.
Cadence had been hurt.
Burned, she’d said.
She didn’t know to what extent.
I drove to Nashville alone.
They were life-flighted to Vanderbilt.
I didn’t know what to feel. Scared, yes, but scared of things that were unknown. My friend Matt Stone called me on the way. His son had seen the Helicopter. I had to sound insane. I remember being calm, but that may just be the fog of looking back on that first raw hour.
I know I got testy with the Children’s ER front desk. I wanted to go back and see my son, but he wasn’t in the system yet so I had to wait.
He looked so pitiful. His face and throat were swollen from the burn. The skin on his left arm above the elbow, yellow and dead, peeling. White and hardening, the third-degree burns. Red and blistered. He was asleep when I walked in.
Rob DeWitt, our Pastor of Care at The Bridge got to the hospital minutes after me and prayed for us. Over the next few hours, things unfolded. We’d be in the hospital for a few days probably, but left almost 24hrs after we got there. We were fortunate that the hot water missed his eye, or we would have been talking about blindness in one eye. The first conversations of skin grafts were had. We made the local paper. As the day went on, I went home and packed bags for us and returned to that little hell called the hospital where time warps and bends and hours last for days. As we settled in for our first night, I made the call to let Cadence sleep with me in the chair. At least that way he’d be comfortable and not confined to a crib by himself. Looking back, we both needed each other that night. Maybe I needed to hold my son more than he needed me. But those few restless hours bonded us in a way we hadn’t been before. That night was marked by frequent bottles, nurses, not a few tears, and music by Kellie Besch. Her songs that night were a salve to both of us. I needed to hear her sing of Christ, “His heart will be my home.” Her words soothed a quiet rage in my soul. Her words were a special grace that I won’t soon forget.

Tomorrow marks one year since the injury. I don’t have the same job. We live in a new house. Cadence won a lawsuit for his injury and will never have to worry about money like Becky and I have. He had a skin graft, but will always bear the scars of that accident.

Over the last year, we have fought fear and anger and doubt. We’ve been pulled to our limits emotionally, spiritually, and financially. But through it all, I’ve found myself going back to Kellie’s song “By Name.” Though the turmoil and fear and doubt, Jesus, who knows the stars by name and holds the earth in his hand, has heard our cries of desperation.   He heard our pleas for the health of our son, and proved himself faithful not once or twice, but daily, over and over again a thousand times.

His heart has proved to be our home, a foundation firm and secure. May we not soon forget it.

 

When I come home from work everyday, I open the door and yell my son’s name. And then I growl at him. He jumps excitedly, crawling toward me. I pick him up, hold him close and whisper ‘I love you’, in his ear as he grabs whatever part of my face he can get a hold of as smiles gleefully.

I’m sure I did the same thing when I was a child.

I wish I did the same thing with God.

But somewhere between being a husband and becoming a father, I’ve forgotten what it means to be a child. To crawl into Abba’s lap and grab onto whatever parts of Him I can grab between my fingers.

In January, my church started having Sunday Night services that I volunteer for. I lead a group of volunteers in welcoming people. But I started dreading the whole thing. I felt like I was leading on autopilot. I didn’t want to sit through the worship and the sermon. And then I’d go home and be relieved.

I took me a couple of weeks to figure out why.  The thing I really dread had returned. My depression.

I don’t talk about it much, unless we’re sitting over coffee and I’m really feeling like you won’t throw it all back in my face someday.

He’s worn different clothes through the years.  He grew up with me. Kind-of. I thought he’d moved out and away. Or that I had. But he’d send me postcards now and again, stamped red with ‘Remember whens…’ to remind me of all of the damage I’d caused.Or he’d drop by unannounced and sleep on the couch before he got bored and moved on. And then he’d drop another postcard.

But I didn’t recognize him this time. He’d matured. He learned another language.He drank craft beer, had a mustache and wore jorts.

Jorts are the worst.

Jesus said that the thief comes in to steal, kill and destroy. Depression is a thief, and he’s employee of the year at thieving.

I’ve never been happier in my life than I have these past 10 months being a father, and learning how to live and to love my wife as I take on those duel responsibilities. But depression, thief that he is, has wormed his way into those relationships, tainting them. Putting distance between my wife and I. Between my son and I. Between God and I.

My son doesn’t yet recognize when depression has its talons in me. I hope he never does. My wife sees it more clearly. On those days, she holds me close and reminds me that I’m loved. That I’m not a failure as a husband and a father. And God is gracious. Even on the days where I let depression put a Grand Canyon between us, God still calls me by my name, growls playfully as He crosses the room and scoops me up in His nail scarred hands and whispers ‘I love you’ and encourages me to keep grabbing onto whatever part of Himself I can.

It’s not been quite a year since my last version of this but now seems like the best time to do it before life gets 50 extra shades of insane. This time last May, I had applied and was going through the early process of being admitted to The Iron Yard (which I loved), and we were days away from losing my grandmother.

So let’s take a trip over the last year, shall we?

Highs:

1. We got pregnant really quickly.
2. I graduated from The Iron Yard.
3. I got a job at Blackwood Media Group.
4. Christmas’s in Arkansas & Dallas.

Lows:

1. This was mentioned in my last Year in Review post, but my grandma Fern died pretty suddenly.
2. Being away from my brother/Arkansas & Brazillian friends.
3. Realizing that partnering with TEAM to go to Adelaide is farther down the road for us than I would like it to be.
4. Applying for a job at the Bridge and being rejected a 2nd time.

Highlights:

1. The night that I graduated from The Iron Yard, Becky telling me that we were pregnant. It was my graduation present, and it was amazing. Our sons’ name is Cadence Grey Wilhite.
2. Getting a job offer two days after I graduated/learned I’d become a father.
3. Growing closer to my community group. They have become my family and I love each of them deeply.
4. Getting to go to Together for the Gospel with my friend Charles.
5. Seeing Star Wars: The Force Awakens in IMAX on the night of the premier. There were tears.
6. Captain America: Civil War. #TeamCap
7. Seeing my church home make a healthy transition into a new building, and to do so in a healthy manner.

Takeaways:

1. I said this last year, but it’s even more evident now: Leadership is hard, but its mine to be responsible for. I love Becky too much to let her languish in my lack of leadership. If it means her flourishing, I’ll break my back to lead to the best of my ability.
2. I am realizing the weight of fatherhood, even before it’s really arrived. I know its full weight will hit me once Cadence is born, but even now, it’s a responsibility I take very seriously.
3. Gospel growth is worth all of the little deaths it cost me.
4. I feel the weight of my inadequacies to lead the community that I’ve been entrusted with, and yet the leadership is about to trust me with even more responsibility. It’s something I’m taking on with fear and trembling.
5. It’s a good time to be a nerd because of all of the great movie and TV content being made.

“Call my demons and walk with me brother, until our roads lead us away from each other. And if your heart’s full of sorrow, keep walking – don’t rest. And promise me from heart to chest to never let your memories die. Never. I will always be alive and by your side. In your mind, I am free.”

When I started my journey to become a web developer, I never thought that I’d actually reach my goal of being able to say “Hi! My name is Jordan & I’m a web-developer” But I did reach that goal and now I’m putting my name out there. This journey isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon, and I’m excited to take it.

If you’re looking for freelance work, consultations or just want to talk about the web, feel free to send me an email and I’d be glad to help you.

Here is the link to my portfolio site with all of my contact information.

Allons-y!