So, again I sent emails and placed phone calls.  A few days later I received a return call.  I was instructed to send a cursory financial income/expense report and a “hardship” letter.  I was provided a FAX number, but no address, no contact person, and certainly no email or web address.  Already this process was inspiring doubt – I don’t own a FAX machine, and I certainly don’t have a landline to FAX from my PC.  What century is this!?

Within the next week, I gathered the documentation, wrote the letter, and drove across the river to the Wells Fargo Loan office in Longview.  I had them FAX the materials and saved myself the few bucks that Office Depot would have charged.  Now I was left to wait and wonder – where did that document end up?  Who was responsible?  What steps do I need to take next?

Within the next week, or two, someone from Wells Fargo called me. They wanted to make sure I was going to send in the appropriate documentation and hardship letter.  Of course I explained that I had already FAXed the materials, and after a few clicks of the mouse, the lady on the other end of the phone assured me they had indeed received my FAX.

“What’s next?” I asked.  ”What do you need me to do now?“

“Nothing.” She assured me.  ”We will process your request and get back to you in the next three or four months.”

“I’m sorry…  did you just say ‘three to four months?’  We’ll be out of money by then!”

She went on to explain to me that this is the standard processing time – but that I needed to call every week to keep my claim active. If I failed to call, they would cancel the process.

In the meantime, I received several letters in the mail, all with different return addresses, reminding and/or demanding certain information.  Information I had already FAXed in.  Or, within a day or two of receiving those letters, I would receive an automated call from Wells Fargo.  Sometimes the call would request that I stay on the line for assistance, other times a recording would state that is was important for me to call back and talk to someone at Wells Fargo.

Each time I spoke with someone, they would verify my information, address, whether or not we intended to keep the house, et cetera.  It was as if I were being treated like a first-time caller.  After awhile, I’d just interrupt the call-taker, and tell them I was returning a call – which of course I had already stated at the beginning of the call. And when we finally got to the specifics of why they, or I, called, each time I was told: “There doesn’t be any apparent reason to contact you.  You case is pending.  Thanks for calling.“

Finally, about the time our bank account was down to zero, I received a call that said we had been approved for a payment moratorium until March of 2010. During that time, Wells Fargo would review my “hardship” and though we would owe several month’s of payments, most likely they would refinance our loan and work out a better payment strategy.  In the meantime, we had enrolled in unemployment insurance, food stamps, and the Oregon Health Plan.

I was advised to resubmit the required paperwork – even though they already had it on file – and they would send out a contract for us to sign.  When the contract arrived, we signed it, included the financial statements and hardship letter, and FAXed it back – again from a Wells Fargo institution.  Since our payment was set up for automatic withdrawal, I asked one of the people whom I spoke to, if they would stop that payment.

No, I was told – I needed to go into a bank branch directly to have that stopped.  So, when I was FAXing in the moratorium contract, I had them process the cancellation of the automatic withdrawal.

We were feeling hopeful – as if there were a light at the end of the tunnel. And then a couple of weeks later, I received an email telling me our account was overdrawn.  Apparently a mortgage payment was processed.  Of course this prompted a $35 overdraft fee and another $35 fee for transferring (not enough) money from our savings account.  In addition, the mortgage department was wanting to charge us for the NSF check.  But after a few phone calls, the mortgage payment was reversed and the various fees had been returned.  All was now well again.

Then I received another call. I was told that our moratorium contract was “broken” and that we needed to reapply.  According to the nice lady on the other end of the phone, calling from St. Louis this time, when the last automatic payment was returned, that violated the stipulations of the contract.  Of course I tried explaining how there wasn’t supposed to be a payment, and that it was a mistake from their end that caused the payment to be initiated in the first place.  But even after convincing this person that it wasn’t our mistake, she still advised me to resubmit all the documentation again and to “reapply” for the hardship.

I was mad, frustrated, and pretty discouraged.  Apparently we would be sent to the back of the queue again, and it would take another three or four months to process.  It turns out we didn’t have to wait that long.  I sent the material in the next week, and about a month later, we were informed that we no longer qualified because we hadn’t completed our responsibilities.

I was mad, frustrated, and pretty discouraged

A few days later, I received another phone call. This time from someone in Maryland (the fifth state from which we’d received correspondence from).  This lady was not just a call-taker.  She wasn’t working off of a computer-monitor script.  She had real information and was able to dialog with me.  She told me it was actually good that the other process fell through and that the Homeowner Mortgage Modification Program was now up and running at Wells Fargo and that we certainly qualify for that.

This new program would lower our interest rates from 6% to 2% for a few years, and in addition, they would refinance in order to lower our payments.  In a few years, the interest rate would increase, but never above 5%.  Glory hallelujah!  We had hope again.  Of course I had to resubmit financial statements and a hardship letter, which I did.  (By now I’d found a free FAX service online)

Last week I received a phone call from someone who informed me that they were looking at our materials and we should have an answer within a week to 10 days.  He gave me his name, direct dial phone number, and extension.  Finally, we were dealing with real people!  We were feeling good!  We have already missed three house payments, and apparently that’s the point where they start looking to foreclose.  We could see this saga having a good mediation – after almost six months.

He asked me if The Wife was working?

Yesterday, the same man called me again.  He asked me if The Wife was working?  ”No,” I explained.  ”even after getting her RN license transfered, she was unable to find work either.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.  We can’t modify your loan if your only income is unemployment.“

Now this is crazy talk.  If I wasn’t unemployed, I wouldn’t need the modification.  If they had modified this sooner, we would still be making payments.  I was really confused – and it took me a few rounds of questioning to figure out what he was actually saying.  I could tell that this young man was feeling a little sheepish too.

The one thing he told me is that I should focus on getting work.  Wells Fargo has no interest in our house.  It would cost them more to take it, then to let us continue to live in it.  And of course that is certainly true.  We probably owe far more than it is worth.  If we stay here, which we plan to do, they will recoup all the money, plus interest, they loaned us two years ago.  If we leave, they too will loose the equity that we’ve already lost.  Not only will they have to pay someone to maintain it, sell it, and all the associated paperwork that goes along with a foreclosure – but they will lose about $50,000 from the original loan.

On paper, we’ve already lost about $100,000 dollars in the last couple of years.  What amazing times we live in.

However, we feel blessed.  Compared to the people of Haiti, Darfur, and other remote, forgotten regions, we are living well.  A friend of mine just got back from Malawi.  He said that everyday they eat a cold, cornmeal mush – several times a day – and that’s all.  They live in mud and grass huts, the water is dirty, and they have little or no education.

Despite the bureaucratic, Catch-22 we find ourselves in, we are content, at peace, and hopeful.  In fact, we are much happier than we have been in a couple of years.

The one thing I’ve come to appreciate, is the needs of the poor.

The one thing I’ve come to appreciate, is the needs of the poor.  As I wrote in a recent post, many of those who have an income, health insurance, and the emotional/mental/spiritual capacity to stay afloat, certainly need to have more insight and compassion on those who don’t have those resources.

It’s tough out here!

1999 was a very interesting year.  It was a time of great change and transition.  For the first time, since leaving Portland a few years earlier, I was on the move again.  Fresh from a a painful breakup and preparing for another cross-country move, I attended conneXions99, a young adult conference in Washington, DC.  Those few days in April were pivotal to the rest of my life.

I was broken and lonely when I arrived in DC.  While I knew a few of the people at the conference, and some other folks in town, like all times of transition, it was confusing and disorienting.  And, just coming out of a relationship, I was vulnerable.  I also made a lot of new friends – including the woman who would become my wife almost nine years ago!

Moving to SW Michigan was much harder than my move from Oregon to Southern California. I had made some really good friendships in SoCal – it was a good life and it was hard to leave.  My life in Michigan was more monastic – which I suppose was appropriate, since I was attending the Seminary.  I found a great house – more of a shack, but it was in an awesome location.  It sat on a thousand acre private game reserve over looking Lake Chapin.  It was just the kind of place I’ve always wanted to live, except, for the first time in my life, I was tired of living alone.

This is where the story by my friend, Ducky, begins. Being somewhat young, and somewhat available on a college campus has its advantages.  However, when one is ambiguous about their standing, it can be confusing – from the inside and the outside.  This is why I understand my friend’s confusion as to my intentions.  But as she mentioned in her version of the story, there was a “small connection made” back in April of 1999.  Yet, I was averse to pursuing it.

You see, for most of my adult life, I had made relationship choices the same way I chose cars.  If it looked nice, I tried to acquire it.  The problem is, a car can be sold – but a relationship doesn’t end as easily.  During the 20 years between the ages of 20 and 40, I had been married, divorced, and been in a few other significant relationships – none of which had lasted more than two and half years.  This is not only a bad track-record, but only an idiot would refuse to seek a new path.

I decided to quit being an idiot

When one realizes their life has become unmanageable, it becomes imperative to turn their life over to a Higher Power.  In doing so, I felt impressed to stop dating.  I stumbled across Josh Harris’ book, I Kissed Dating Goodbye, and read it in one evening. The principles outlined in that book, enabled me to see the mistakes I’d been making, and I decided to put them into practice.

Deciding to do something, and actually doing that, can leave quite a chasm in one’s life.  Intentions and actions – purpose and practice – they don’t always match.  And so was the challenge of learning to be in purely platonic relationships, even with potential mates.  I was determined to build friendships, not love connections.  However, I was not very skilled in this arena.  Which is a plausible explanation as to why my friend Ducky was confused.

“Deciding to do something, and actually doing that, can leave quite a chasm in one’s life.”

Then things got complicated.  As I mentioned, I met my wife at the same event where I met Ducky.  Jennifer and I were building our friendship, but due to the presence of Ducky in this situation, Jennifer was keeping her distance.  This made it easier for me to keep my distance from Jennifer too.  Not only was I about protecting my own heart, but I wasn’t interested in seeing anyone else get hurt either.  In 40 years of life, I had been the part of too many broken hearts.  It was losing its appeal.

In the book, Josh Harris suggests that people not get distracted by dating, but rather build friendships in group settings.  Even if sparks fly, or there appears to be chemistry, don’t act on those feelings.  Instead, let your friends suggest love interests – to confirm what may be obvious to oneself and others.  This is the approach I was inclined to take.  I wasn’t going to break my dating fast until others suggested there might be potential with someone in my life.  In the meantime, like other times when I’ve been unavailable, I seemed to have more women friends than usual, and this is never easy.

The tipping point came one week when I had the flu.  Ducky and Jennifer made the journey to my country cabin to bring me food and encouragement.  Jennifer and I remember it as an awkward visit, Ducky tells me she doesn’t remember the visit.  In my heart, I had decided that Jennifer was an amazing woman – but I didn’t want to hurt Ducky, who seemed to have a crush on me.  Jennifer told me later that she too was seriously interested in me, but didn’t want to step on the toes of her good friend Ducky.  And so we left it at that, for weeks.

An opportunity presented itself to explain my true feelings with Ducky.  Friends, nothing more.  And as she says in her post, nothing more has been discussed since.  However, it wasn’t long after that when a friend approached both Jennifer and I to wonder aloud, “Why aren’t you two dating?” The long story short, we began to date, but from the beginning, I again took Harris’ advice.  I explained to Jennifer that I was done with recreational dating.  If I was going to date her, it would be for the purpose of courtship.  While that was a bit scary to both of us, it also offered a bit of purpose that allowed us to avoid some of the pitfalls of contemporary dating.

Two years after I met her, eleven months after we began dating, and four months after I proposed, Jennifer and I were married.  And I’ve never been happier or more content.

Epilogue:

Interestingly enough, Ducky ended up marrying a former love interest of Jennifer’s – and thus completes a perfect soap-opera-style story!

PS:  Remind me to tell you the story of our engagement sometime.

I checked my pulse rate: 50.  Again, not a good sign.  If I were a marathon runner, that would be good, but I’m not.  I went into the other room where The Wife and Kids were just settling in to watch a video. I asked her to pause the video and I explained the above to her.  At this point I was seriously thinking about calling 9-1-1.  Jennifer asked me if I wanted to go to the Emergency Department?  ”Yes.”  She suggested we take my blood pressure – it was 202/111.  This was a hypertensive emergency.

We loaded up in the car and drove across the bridge to St. John/Peace Health Medical Center in Longview- about 15 minutes away. Within 15-20 minutes, I was being evaluated.  Blood pressure, pulse-oxygen saturation, temperature, full history, etc.  By now, the crisis had subsided and I was feeling better.  My blood pressure was still a bit high, for me; and my pulse rate was a bit low – but I was not experiencing the headache, dizziness, and other symptoms like before.

Fortunately the ED was not busy, and I have to say it was a very pleasant experience – everyone was very caring, professional, and spot on good at their job.

A tech came in and did a 12-lead EKG, my blood was drawn, they checked other body fluids, and they continued to monitor my blood pressure.  After awhile, my wife and kiddos came back to see me, or get the cell phone charger, I’m not sure which.  The kids were VERY curious.  This was quite the exciting field trip for them!

The ED Tech thought she saw atrial-fibrillation on the 12-lead EKG, but that turned out to be the voice of inexperience.

The Wife and I were trying to figure out how they could go home and get the kids to bed, meanwhile find a ride for me, when the Doc came in and said I could go.

He seemed to think it might be related to the meds I was taking for my infected tooth, so he wrote me new prescriptions - a new pain killer and a new antibiotic.  And then we came home.

I’ll have to follow up with my Doc in the next couple of days, and most likely will have to be treated for hypertension, but either way, I survived the night.

There’s nothing like a trip to the Emergency Department to put one’s perspective of mortality in order.  Thanks for all the good thoughts and prayers from my friends via Facebook and Twitter!  You all are awesome!  The good thing from all of this is I feel very loved tonight!

Men, don’t be a hero, if you are experiencing chest pain/discomfort, or anything else that could prove life-threatening, go to the hospital or call 9-1-1. While my issue tonight turned out relatively benign, it could just have easily turned out with me lying in a heap on the floor and my wife doing CPR on me.  Don’t be a hero, go to the hospital.

Thanks again for the love everyone.  It’s time to go to bed now!

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