Uncanny Gumba

Friends,

The following is a prompt, and also a tribute. Take notice, better yet – take action. Build into your family & friends, check on your loved ones, and humbly remove pride to dig into issues you may not always see. Fight, for each other. Be invitational. Genuinely care. Lean into each other. Pray with each other. Make time a priority.

Non of us are immune from the world attempting to put us in the fetal position. We need each other, no matter how tough one is. Life each other up. Have each other's backs. Don't take each other for granted, speak life into each other. Sometimes folks won't ask, so just go help them. Let them know they belong. That they're needed, wanted, and loved. 

Tim Koller, tribute


God, I pray for Tim Koller, his family, and anyone else who may be feeling like they should not be here. Please fill their hearts with joy, minds with love, and instill the truth of their purpose into their spirit to conquer such thoughts. You say God that if we call upon your name, you hear us. I am reaching out to you to connect with those who need you most, to pour your will into their life, and for those around them to recognize they need help & to have the strength to connect with them through the right words and actions. That everyone is brought closer to you through such hardship.



My heart is heavy. We lost a friend and brother, Tim Koller, Monday October 24th, 2016. I’m sharing this nearly a year later, and a little after his recent birthday, August 31st 2017 (he would have been 39). This is a time I perhaps could have been more engaged and invitational this time a year ago. Our church, Crossroads, has something called Man Camp, https://www.crossroads.net/mancamp, which was going on a couple days before he passed. If only I considered inviting him, or was more engaged before that…

Prayers for sympathy, and healing are with his wife and family. I’ve been wrestling with how to share my feelings of sadness, then anger, followed by guilt, then it all repeats. My primary goal is to honor a fallen soldier through a respectful tribute, but also encourage others to take notice of someone who may be going through various battles, fears, brokenness, and not judge them – but give them a call, text, take them to lunch, workout with them, invite them to church, or show up at their home and say hello, do something!

God deemed Tim, I, and others fit to cross paths. He took his own life, and I am sharing this so it has some form of purpose. Forgive the candidness of my sentiments, but this taboo subject and following thoughts are something I share because if it reaches even one person battling the choice between pushing forward with willpower, or ending their life – I want you to choose life. For it to help you notice when you need to be encouraged, or encourage someone to choose to live.

Be vulnerable, reach out. If you’re feeling down & depressed, or like this is an option, know it’s not the choice & is the devil stealing your joy with lies – reach out. Call a friend, go to a family member’s house, go to church and pray with someone, see a counselor, and connect in community. Do not leave a path of wreckage for you and those who love you. You can win against what is consuming you. It can be better, and it is worth living. You have a lot of life left to put into living. I promise.

To feel this is your only way out is something few experience. Such an act holds disregard for the amazing impact you were built for. This is not the way to go, or purpose you are meant for. It creates a path of difficulty for those you leave behind wondering with guilt what they could have done more to prevent it. It leaves a trail of questions or wondering if you should have called more, made more time for connecting, invited them over for dinner more, or the many other actions that could have potentially prevented such a situation.

To be devoured by such brokenness that you feel this is the way out is something people may wrestle may. We get tangled up in life’s struggles, suffer in isolation, feel alone, and become divided from ourselves & what we were meant to be. We are wired to connect with others, but pride and other reasons can cause us to get in our own way. The burden of chains become what feels like it’s too much weight to bare, leaving the whispered prompts from demons to take such thoughts to a real-life step. A dark place like this needs light. The feelings need the chains broken, and freedom regained. We are not alone, and the lies that we are not good enough, wanted, needed, have any value, accepted, or belong are strong emotions that can destroy you.

We are left with memories of a friend, son, brother, husband, uncle, Marine, and hard worker who left us too soon. Death seems to never be timely, but Tim had much life to live – and didn’t believe this. I wish I had stepped more into his journey. I wish I could have battled alongside him better with the grit we had since growing up together. We could have defeated these demons and been louder against their lies, peeling the poison they were pouring over him.

I wish I invited him to Man Camp through Crossroads only a few days earlier than when he took his life. We could have fought for him, attempted to removed the thoughts that were thieving away his value, worth, and purpose as a son of God. Prayed to bind up and cast away the distractions that were infiltrating his mind and heart, and replace them with truth. If I had just thought of inviting him…

An act like this leaves a different aura versus other situations. Friends, family, and others are left wondering what they could have done more, but all this is trivial as there wasn’t a discussion around having such a chance. My heart goes out to his wife. What strength she’ll need to recover from this loss. Same for his family and friends who loved him dearly.

Our old crew of friends from High School reunited in October 2016. Not for a reunion of celebration and joy, but for the loss of an old pal. I’ve seen this action before and what it does to others. An old co-worker who was a friend at GE who took his life due to the many hardships he was enduring. Lonnie was a Vietnam veteran, in the Army. His wife developed dementia, his routine spiraled out of control, and comfortable rhythms knocked him off balance. I and others leaned into him, prayed, invited him to church, asked if we could cook meals for him, encouraged him with ideas to keep positive, and offered our support. One day at work in the mechanic’s shop, he had a stroke caused by stress. After this, he wasn’t the same, and took a similar action as my friend Tim. He was a husband, father, and friend to many. Another man who defended liberty, fought for his family, and worked hard made death an untimely situation which led to much suffering for those he left behind. Again, we all wish we called more, invited ourselves into his home more, prayed harder, and all the other guilt that arrives with such a loss.

I am not an expert in psychology, or licensed counselor. I am someone who has seen behavior that leads to suicide. If you, or someone you know are going through a battle for you in the form of spiritual warfare, are feeling desolate and broken, or life is not worth living – please, lean into yourself or them and get help. This can be in the form of prayer, lunch, opening the door and listening, grabbing a coffee, and providing resources to get the emotional support and psychological help you need for healing and health. You don’t have to be a doctor or counselor to make a phone call, ask how someone is doing, or just say a cordial hello. You never know what people are battling in their minds and hearts.





Feels like yesterday we were sharpening each other as knuckle-headed kids. We grew up in High School together at North College Hill in Cincinnati, OH. He became a Marine and served our country well, I the college route. We went different paths, but over the years our journeys would intertwine. Even bumping into you at church of all places, wow! Life looked full of abundance, and you built into a good husband, son, uncle, friend, hard worker, and more.

Immediately I recalled all our shenanigans from growing up. We were kids, wet behind the ears, and figuring life out. Tim was a hell raiser, but a smart guy who was ahead of his time. He was always good for a witty rib jab, which would make you laugh – but sting you because it was partly true. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to hug him, or slap him. One of the reasons we got a long so well.

He listened to the Beatles and other classic rock bands that were real music before what the kids of our day were cramming in their ears during the mid 90’s. Tim mine as well have been the 5th Beatle, as he loved them more than anyone I have ever met. He was their best marketer. He’d impersonate them, especially John Lennon, with the worst English accent – but we still loved it. He’d sing all their songs out of tune, but you didn’t want him to stop, as his passion made anything sound great.

He was shorter, but from his uncle lifting weights with him from a young age – he was more solid than others in our age demographic. He was always a willing debater, and never turned away from a contentious conversation. He wouldn’t willingly admit if his logic was faltering, as he’d make you prove yourself and your point. He’d challenge my belief system to understand it, forcing me to share my heart with words, and evidence. He marched to his own drumbeat, and so did the rest of our crew in the mid to late 90’s. One of the many other reasons I respected him. We were roaming around, figuring it all out, but together. Whatever the life challenge, we figured it out and made it work. He stood for something, and took pride in grounding himself in the principles around which he lived. He’d make you think, and at times even questions yourself – but in a good way.

He had a chiseled jaw, looking like a character out of the comic books he had an affinity for – actually making that hobby cool versus the nerd reputation it had for others. One of his favorite series was The Uncanny X-Men. He shared a popular story of how two of the characters, Colossus and Juggernaut, got into a bar brawl (The Uncanny X-Men, No. 183). He loved how it was good versus evil, and taught a lesson. In this comic, Wolverine and Nighcrawler plotted to get Colossus drunk and beat him up as punishment for breaking up with Kitty Pryde. Then, how two of the toughest characters who were enemies happened to in a bar who then tore the whole place to shreds. It was a memorable one-on-one battle that was a teachable moment in having each other’s backs, humility, and not abandoning a teammate. Also, that the best of us can make mistakes. In a way, I feel he was going through such a battle inside his own self throughout the years – like Colossus. But, it also reminds me from the story line that as friends, we need to be better teammates, and lift each other up. Chris Sims, a writer who assessed why this specific comic is one of the best of all time said this, “...makes the point that abandoning your teammates in combat is the same as breaking up with someone when you're in love with someone else…”. I feel this can also be represented in how his wife Tracy may feel a bit while healing as well. I know our old crew felt like we had become too distant, and should not have permitted life to create such a gap between us. 

He spoke like an adult who had been through a few tours for a young age, but was plopped into our laps. He had experienced war through various experiences within family, vices, and love for challenging any and all authority. An alluring quality. One of my favorite trademarks he had was calling someone a “Gumba”. This was a far more creative word than calling someone a jerk or idiot. Depending on the tone, like many curse words, it could be a term of endearment to a pal, or slam slicing right to someone’s poor character. It seemed he could call anyone this, anytime he wanted, and it said so much about them with one word. He was a bad ass, and we loved him for it.

We drifted apart for a while, wrote letters while he was stationed at various placed (pre-social media), then over the past decade we would cross paths again. I saw Tim in the lobby of my church of all places a few years back. Seeing Tim in a church was great, as growing up we would always debate our beliefs. I hugged him with joy, we sat together, then scheduled a dinner.

A few more times, we’d bump into each other at church, I prayed over him, and encouraged him to meet up and also attend services together. There's something sweet about crossing paths with an old friend who knew you in the old days, then sees you for what you are now. Like a glance in a historical archive, only to see each other for the leaps and strides you've made towards progress. A feeling of justice for all you've been through, and warm reflection of advancements you both have made. We saw this with each other, and that we stumbled forward. Recognizing we both had matured a tad, but not far enough to where we would take ourselves too seriously. He wouldn't allow that. Another endearing quality of brother Tim.

I always felt Tim’s struggles, but knowing he was a tough guy, encouraging him, speaking truth into each other in our own language, and that he had gotten married a couple years ago – his Facebook posts showed a joyous man who had made it out of personal and literal battle zones. I was happy for Tim, called him, met with him, and kept up on social media with him to affirm his happiness was shared in my heart as well.

Tim was one of those friends who you could not see for years, but then catch right back up with each other like a beat was not missed. No regrets, or passive judgment for each other drifting then reconnecting. As we fought through our youthful challenges together, went our own ways, then would reconnect. When I went through my divorce and custody battle, he was a fan for me through keeping in tune with my journey and stayed in touch. When he returned home, I’d affirm his hard work at Givaudan in Cincinnati, his path of being a husband to Tracy, and path to discovering more around his faith and relationship with God. He appeared happy, busy with life’s joys, and leading a healthy life. Sometimes, we don’t know what’s going on in someone’s world. 

We had a friend Shawn who worked at a local pizzeria place after school, so we’d visit. It was a summer afternoon and we decided to go get the hook up from him. Our friend Jeff was wrestling with some items, and so were we. He wasn’t available, so Tim and I headed there ourselves. Tim liked to walk everywhere. I had to negotiate with him to ride in my car, and he finally agreed. We chewed the fat a while with our bud, then he gave us a couple large pizzas. That’s hitting the lottery at that age and with our funds. I remember Tim was mulling through his purpose, and where he was going with his plan to join the Marines after High School. There was no doubt to his path, but we would always challenge life’s purpose and what was going on in our lives. He planned on being a Marine since being a young kid, and you knew he would. He would have the wildest ideas, even for me. Today it was to climb a tree at the house I lived at in the backyard to eat our lunch. So, we did.


I remember listening to him, talk about how much we had already been through, kicking around our next steps at this age and where we’d be in life that we ironically are at now. I felt comfort just being with buds like him. I could be me. You know, not feel like you have to pretend to be someone else, regret what you said that was on your heart, or fake it so you could join in type of situation. You belonged, and had a voice with each other.

His honesty was refreshing, something that somehow gets missed over time – but not with him. I recall the feeling I had at that moment. I was headed to college, he was going into the Marines, our friends Shawn and Ian were going into the Navy, and our friend Jeff ended up going away for a lengthy time which was difficult for the whole group. While we were philosophizing, I remember just thinking how it was neat we had all crossed paths, but knew there would be a divergence, and hoped there’d be many convergences for us all once we exited college, military, and other realms. Even until recently, with our lives full of hustle and bustle – it was comforting knowing that he was near, here, and around. I didn’t want him to stop talking, or leave. I feel that now clear as day. I still don’t want him to leave.


  
You’ll always be our Uncanny Gumba. A passionate, mysterious, honest, and quirky pal who has left a hole in our hearts in the shape with memories of you. Your wife, mother, sisters, brother, old crew and new friends, Marines, co-workers, and others you left behind will stumble forward without your presence.

We will miss you Tim, and you’ll always be our bad ass childhood friend, tough Marine, and son of God who left this Earth far too early.

I had to discern posting such sentiments or not. Didn't want one moment to be your full identity because it's not who you fully were. But, if one person is nudged with inspiration from these words, it's worth the vulnerability.

Tim, I'm sorry you felt that act was the only hope you had. I'm sorry I wasn't more present or engaged as your bud. I've been writing you this letter since 10/24/16, bit of a tribute I guess. It's taken a while. I got it together as best I could respectfully get it out, but know it's difficult to grasp such situations.

Wish we had more time. Chances to have unplanned encounters, to hear that unmistakable laugh, see The Beatles biggest fan & worst impersonator, bone crushing hugs & handshakes, passionate debates between two stubborn souls that always ended in agreeing to disagree, and recall stories of where we were humbled - and how we have made it.

Miss you Tim. You made a dent in us all. What a character you were. The world is less bright without you taking ground forward in community with us. I'll never forget you brother man. Ya Gumba 😉

Your heavy-hearted friend,
B



 P.S. I REPEAT!
Friends, if you feel alone, in isolation, defeated, divided from yourself, lost, not good enough, swallowed by fear & anxiety, and like life is devouring you - be louder than the demons attacking you.

These feelings are all lies, and you can press ahead. We all stumble, and can do so forward - together. Life can be hard. We are in this together, it's the club called "everyone".

Be tougher through your faith. There is a battle for you, arm up for the fight. Reach out. Don't be prideful. Get help! It's the strongest step to take. Talk. Pray. Find ways to speak life into living. Anything, just never give up or into it all.

You are here because of a great purpose, and are wired to achieve much goodness. We all have peaks and valleys, don't simmer in the low places. You're wired for amazing things and many people value you.

If you don't see that, look harder. If you don't feel that, I encourage you to dig deep & get help. You are needed, wanted, and loved. There is hope - I promise.


National Suicide Prevention Hotline
1.800.273.8255
https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org

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