Have you ever suffered from sleep depravation? There have been several times in my life where I’ve found myself on the brink of every type of exhaustion out there (physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual). Most memories of these times are not the most pleasant. Often, they are marked in my mind as times I said things I shouldn’t have said, did things I shouldn’t have done, or thought things I wish I didn’t remember. On the opposite side of the spectrum, it is quite seldom that these times are ones that I pray I’ll hold on to for the duration of my life.

Yesterday was my first Easter without blood relatives. Now, I haven’t had Easter with my immediate family since I came to Notre Dame, but even then, I spent every Resurrection Celebration with my extended family up in New England. This year, that tradition was sadly not upheld, for I am heading that way in a couple of weeks. This did provide me with the wonderful opportunity to enjoy Easter with the Steenbekes; a family from our church I have known for all of five years, now.

Let me mention that the day for the Steenbekes and me started shortly after dawn. The youth group hosted an Easter Breakfast and they were a very large part of putting it on. Skipping ahead, the breakfast went well, Pastor Rick rocked in service, and we were off to their extended family’s house.

At Matt’s parents’ house, I ate like a King. There was so much food, and it was so good. It was second-best, only sitting behind my own Grandma’s cooking (in both quantity and quality ). Then the guys went downstairs to “watch a movie.” “Watching a movie included me reclining back and zonking out completely…only to be made fun of because my feet twitch rhythmically while I sleep. I’m naturally musical people, come on! But this poke of fun is what this post is really about, because it all went downhill after we left Carrie’s sister’s house, our second stop of the night.

It was now about 8:30 pm, a full 14.5 hours since my day started, and we were all feeling the effects of limited hours of sleep, and a busy day. As I rode shotgun, Katie, my adopted sister asked me out of the blue, “Bobby, do you know how my mom checks my temperature?” Responding with a confused “No,” I turned around to find Katie’s hand immediately on my forehead. She then flicked her thumb upwards and popped me right in the nose, exclaiming one word at the same time…”DOINK!”

I don’t know what my face looked like. I know it was part confusion, part “I can’t believe you just did that,” and one big part, “Oh I’m Sorry!” But after a few seconds of silence, the entire car rocked with laughter, all except the passenger’s shotgun seat...me. We laughed giddily for the entire ride home in a ride laced with stories, jokes, doinks, burps, and toots (perpetrator will remain nameless, though it really wasn’t me).

Sleep depravation set in as we arrived back in Granger and hit the dance floor called the Living Room with the “Bombshell Stomp.” I scared a few people with my rendition of the Billy Dance…I guess they missed the original, because the looks I got were frightened ones.

Look, I know this story isn’t as funny for those who weren’t apart of the 7 in that van or living room. But I bring this story to you for two reasons. One, I’m so thankful that God’s family runs deep. Even when my blood family and I are separated, I count it a blessing, a HUGE blessing to be able to count on “friends” who are much closer than that word suggests. Secondly, if anyone ever checks your temperature without your asking if you feel warm…watch out! The Doinks are going to take the world by storm!

Oh I’m Sorry!

Bob