Once upon a time there was a radiant bald guy who was loved throughout the land. Well actually he was liked by a lot of people. Much to his dismay, RBG was disdained by a segment who didn’t see Him as “radiant” at all. They saw him more as a “Renegade Bald Guy.” He did not fit into their mold or follow their rules. But this is not a tale about about restrictions, rules and making the grade for a self-appointed grading group. This a tale about RBG, who lives in freedom, screwing up and being welcomed back. (Gal 5:5)

Back to our story, RBG was just living life, laughing, celebrating, growing and enjoying people. In fact, he was at the happiest place on earth, the home of The Mouse, when his tummy hurt. It hurt bad enough to go to Florida Hospital where they stuck sharp things into him and pulled fluids out of him. RBG joked, asked people about their life and made friends. It’s what RBG does.

He was not excited when the white coats told him he would would be staying for a sleepover. RBG usually liked sleepovers – campfires, s’mores, ghost stories and late night laughing but this was a crappy sleepover with no food, no drinks and evil phlebotomists hovering around his door ready to pounce. Thankfully RBG had the beautiful Jesus Loving Babe (JLB) by his side constantly holding his hand.

Unfortunately, the next morning, a no nonsense white coat strolled into his room with her nasty, little clipboard in her hand. RBG did not like her or her clipboard. White Coat Mean Lady looked RBG in the eye and told him he was going to die. She said it with the emotion of a takeout clerk saying, “Your pizza is ready.” She shook her head and told him his liver was scarred and “useless.” She told him to get a transplant and then turned and walked out. RBG instantly became Deflated Bald Guy as he and his babe wept together.

It has been a year of health hell since then. If you have not figured out the characters, I’m talking about me and my wife Robin (yeah, yeah, I know “radiant” might be a stretch for me). And now, on Monday, my new lease on life will be given. My son Josh will lie on a table and offer himself, the majority of his liver, to be inserted in me. Without a liver, doctor death was right, I am a goner. But now, I have a very good chance of taking my future grand kids for ice cream before dinner and making their mommies mad at me.

Two days ago, they drew 4 liters of fluid from my massive belly. 185 pound me is enveloped by a 240 pound swollen me. Docs wanted more but it’s stuck in in my cells or something. I’m kinda glad they didn’t get more.

I didn’t know that backache might be part of the result. Now I feel like I’ve been shoveling snow for 3 days. Or maybe I have been become a 98 year-old man all hunched over like Tim Conway on the old Carol Burnett Show. Wheelchairs, bad posture, weak memory and aches and pains. Yeah, this is kinda me right now:

Monday is a new beginning. The peace I feel right now is freaking me out a little. Things are really coming together. My friend Dan shared this scripture with me today: