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When Life Tries to Steal Your Blessings – Strive

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Throughout my life, I have experienced both moments of extreme happiness and the depths of depression. Circumstances, relationships, and sometimes our own decisions can push us to either end of that spectrum.

Early in life, I often looked to others to make me happy. Not that I couldn’t find happiness on my own, but having someone else to focus on seemed to make it much easier. Their worlds, thoughts, and hopes gave me a welcome change and the chance to experience new things, which brought a sense of happiness. This pattern, however, also created codependency that would devastate me whenever those relationships ended, swinging me to the opposite end of the spectrum.

After working through those periods and realizing this was not a healthy way to live, I began developing my own internal “happiness meter.” It allowed me to find simple pleasures in the things I enjoyed—without everything revolving around other people.

In many ways, my blessings became the places, the activities, and the memory-making opportunities. The companions were still important, but they took on a different role. They were no longer the center of what I was doing; instead, they were fellow enthusiasts who simply enjoyed the same activities, places, or events.

Happiness can be found in simple things. It doesn’t require big, elaborate trips—the kind I once thought were necessary. Real joy often comes from completing a project, improving one’s health by reaching a new physical goal, learning new skills, or discovering fresh opportunities to explore.

If you know me, you know I love fiddling. It has been at the close to the center of my life since I was about eight years old. I love hearing and watching other players, being around fellow musicians, and most of all, performing with my fiddle. Sharing my time and energy to uplift the tradition brings me great happiness—whether at a regional fiddle contest, a concert, or special events like the Grand Master Fiddler Championship, now held at the theater at The Factory in Franklin, Tennessee in September, which I have hosted for 18 years, or judging at the Smithville Jamboree in Smithville, Tennessee.

Though the hours can be draining, exhilaration always comes from the activities, the music, and the people.

No matter what your joys in life may be, the old devil can try to steal the very blessings that bring you uplift.

Recently, while headed to Smithville, my reliable old Explorer decided it wasn’t going to make the trip—about halfway there. On a holiday weekend, I found myself sitting on the side of the highway in over 100-degree heat, trying to figure out what to do next. After about 40 minutes, I arranged for a wrecker service from back home to tow the vehicle to a local garage. A good friend then dropped everything to drive me to the airport so I could rent a car. After loading my belongings into the rental, I went home, changed out of my sweat-drenched clothes, and got back on the road. I arrived only five hours later than I had originally planned.

The event itself went beautifully; we managed to work around the heat and sporadic rain. Toward the end of the second day, however, another challenge appeared: an unexpected storm drenched my merchandise table and ruined a significant amount of inventory.

It would have been easy for the breakdown, the anticipated costs of the tow and repairs, and the loss of merchandise to leave me angry, sad, frustrated, and short-tempered with everyone around me. But that didn’t happen. I stayed in my place of blessing and refused to let the old devil steal my joy, no matter what he sent my way.

You can control where your mind goes and how you react. This trip could have been miserable, but I chose to make it anything but. I shared wonderful conversations with old friends, heard amazing music, and watched talented dancers. I even had an interesting conversation with the tow truck driver during the roughly hour-long trip back home.

Making the best of a bad situation can keep your blessings intact and thwart the enemy’s attempts to steal them. I wish that for you always.

Read more of Randall’s writings in his books at the Store .

Beloved community

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As I came through the most recent week in my life, I marked a one-year anniversary of an unexpected fall outside my home while working in the yard. That fall on the driveway resulted in a broken hip which yielded a couple of friends responding, our local fire department, and an ambulance ride to nearby Memorial hospital.
Where would I have been without the friends who dropped everything and came that day. Safe to say, still laying there for some time. Dan Wright and Stephen Middlebrooks were there in minutes to help me access my status and get me the help I needed. Neighbors began coming out to support and help as well.
After 24 hours, a surgeon mended my fractures and in a couple of days I began the process of learning to walk again and whipping those now befuddled muscles back into prior form. When I was brought home, my friends Terry and Pat Crawford were there the next morning with a load of groceries to fill the freezer and keep me going. They were just the first of dozens from my friends and church family who began the process of delivering meals, keeping up my yard, helping me with suitable medical equipment and then driving me to rehab and medical visits. Gary Knowles and Bill Copeland became my constant road companions over the next three months.
The medical professionals made a huge difference in guiding me through the process.
In addition to the process of getting back into shape, I also was dealing with the fact that I was uninsured and now had a very large bill that became a focus in a year when all the areas of my normal income in music and acting had been derailed by the pandemic. As a result, my hometown community as well as fans from music and acting from around the U.S. stepped forward to aid in that process.
When all was said and done, thanks to many prayers and the kindness of so many – every bill was taken care of, allowing me to return to focusing on my health in a time when the future was so unsecure.
If I had lived in a big city rather than a small town where I had actively joined in creating opportunities to build our community, I don’t think I would have faired as well through this adventure. If I had not for years been an active member of an amazing church family at Ringgold United Methodist Church, working alongside so many in mission to make a difference in other people’s lives, I would not have faired as well.
I did my very best to share my thanks to all who made a difference during these moments in my life, if I missed anyone, and you see this, please know you made my life better. For the gift you gave me, I will continue to make every effort to pass along the kindness to others.
The community we call home, the people we surround ourselves with can certainly decide what our lives will be like when dire circumstances arise. I once heard a wise woman say, “If you want a friend, you should be a friend.” That is so true! You should spend your days helping and making a difference in the world around you – creating Beloved Community. If you love others without expectations, you will be loved in return.
Create the world you want to live in…. I am blessed that the one I found myself living is more beloved than I could have ever dreamed. I thank God for that!

I have fallen, but I will get up

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Writer’s note: Friends, As a public personality for decades, I am always reluctant about sharing about any of my health concerns until I feel others may in some way gain an insight which may benefit them in future by my writing about it. Thankfully, this column is not about the pandemic.

It has been many years since I had looked so closely at the dirt, I thought, as my head pointed face down in the dark green grass. It’s amazing how “big” ants look when they are crawling around at the end of your nose.

If I had just took a hit and fell while filming a scene in a movie, I would not have given it a second thought. But instead, I had rolled over twice after a crushing blow to my left side while losing my footing working outside my home.

After a ten-foot attempt to keep on my feet while carrying a large bag of rocks, I failed, only to meet the concrete up close and personal.

Despite my best attempts, I was not bouncing back up in the wake of my close-up examination of the quality of my yard’s root system.

After realizing I was auditioning for one of those old late-night TV commercials where the lady often pitched “I ‘ve fallen and I can’t get up.” I maneuvered my phone from my dirty blue jeans pocket and called my friend Dan Wright to check and see if he could come over and see whether he might think as I did, that I had broken something while doing my driveway dive.

He made it over in a short time and we soon realized, I was dealing with more than just a bruised ego.

We confirmed that my leg would not work properly and were quickly evaluated by the Catoosa County Fire Department emergency medical care response who got me stabilized. They did a superb job while awaiting the ambulance who with all hands got me moved to an ambulance gurney for transport. By now several neighbors had gathered around to check in on what happened, I told one as I rolled by that my guess was, I broke my hip and thus began my medical adventure to Chattanooga.

It’s been about 20 years since I had a need to be in a hospital as a patient, so going during a global pandemic was not within my hopes for this year.

Upon arrival, the ambulance folks shared there might be quite a wait based on the number of ambulances in the delivery area. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case. I was pushed to the first spot in-line at CHI Memorial and within about 8 minutes was wheeled into an exam room with the nurse looking after me getting all needed info. About five minutes more, the ER doctor stuck in his head and before I could blink, I was being whisked off to x-ray.

The experience was different, the personnel were wearing various levels of protective gear depending on their jobs and of course all in masks including me.

The x-ray went quickly and I was returned to the exam room with info that the doctor already had the X-rays and would be in soon. A moment passed, he was in the room, saying that I really did a job on my hip. So, within a few more minutes, I was headed to a room to await an orthopedic consultation in the morning.

I had no more than been transferred to a bed when the orthopedic Dr. Bernard was standing over me in his mask saying I can’t operate on you tonight, I have a full schedule but you will be first up tomorrow as he outlined the choices and best outcomes in the list.

I would like to say that the next 21 hours or so were a walk in the park, but they were more like laying on a dirt road and every few minutes a team of horses and a stagecoach rolled over just to make sure I was still aware that my hip was broken.

However, the team of nurses and CNAs that alternated with my care were outstanding and before I knew it I was headed to surgery earlier than scheduled, laughing with the surgery team, even as the Doctor initialed my left hip with a sharpie after asking what it was I knew him to be doing. I was actually enjoying the experience until they rolled me towards the operating room as I faded off into anesthesia bliss until awakening in recovery.

When I returned from surgery, thankfully, I once again was well cared for as I worked to find new comfort levels, and soon began in hospital rehab and other staff as we worked towards the future of my recovery relationship.

In all, three days in and home with a transition to out-patient rehab that is ongoing for several weeks.

I wish I could say I came home picked up my bag of rocks and finished my project in the yard, instead, I was more like the man who was told to pick up his bed and walk in the Bible minus the healing. In the first night, I tried every chair, every bed, every place I could imagine to just rest and stop hurting. None worked and luckily for my neighbors my walker didn’t have a motorized attachment to aide me in checking outside my own home. Though my efforts were a slow start, each day improves.

Hopefully, transitional success will come eight weeks down the road as they release me back to regular routine and hopefully any of the lingering pain is subsided.

Key Lesson: Life can change in a moment’s notice and I am not sure-footed as a mountain goat.

Key Blessings: God’s gifts through Community Friends, my Ringgold United Methodist Church family, and Extended Family, make life easier by their prayers and support when you find you cannot do for yourself.

Greatest Stride: Each day, I am stronger and I see small improvements.

Greatest Challenge: Financial uncertainty for meeting uninsured medical expenses with music and film/tv industries being shut down for pandemic.

Greatest Promise: I am all in God’s Hands and with His guidance, strength and healing, I will be better and all needs will be met.

I want to thank every medical professional, friend and family member who has played a role in getting me on the road to recovery! When I started my career as an entertainer, I moved my legs a lot in rhythm to what I was playing, so hopefully, I will be back to shakin’ a leg again while fiddlin’ around before too long. But I know for sure, it is only possible by God’s blessings and the intervention of those who He sends to make a difference.

So, for the next few weeks, you may see fewer columns, fewer episodes of my various web series as I make my way back to full capacity but don’t worry, I may have fallen, but I will get up again!