"Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more."
"The night my wife and I talked about divorce, I believed one thing: it was all my fault. I wasn't good enough, again. I was about to be the biggest failure a man could be. I was hurt, but I wasn't totally hopeless. And God wasn't finished with either of us."
I grew up in a Christ-believing, church-attending home. Two parents, an older sister, an older brother. I was in the church youth group, and in high school I counseled at a church camp. On paper, I was the kid nobody worried about.
My first weekend away at college, the wheels came off. That whole first semester I was lost, torn between hedonism and everything I'd been raised to believe, and over the next two years my life spiraled. At one point, in all that turmoil, I actually told God to get out of my life. I knew the verse about being hot or cold instead of lukewarm. I was into the carnal, and I was going down.
There were car accidents and motorcycle accidents. The injuries always seemed minor, but they were starting to border on serious, and every one was self-inflicted or a risk I'd signed off on. The last one came on a drive home one evening, when I blacked out for about ten seconds. Blacking out was no big deal. Ten seconds was no big deal. But at over 65 miles an hour on the four-lane? There was no way I could keep putting other men, women, and children at risk.
That night I called my best friend and told him I wouldn't be back, and that our friendship had to be put on hold. God had made it very clear. It was time for me to come home.
Over the next few years I returned to church, and to campus and high school ministries. In 1977 God blessed me with a wonderful wife. We struggled with infertility for five years, and our first son was born on our sixth wedding anniversary. Three daughters and another son followed over the next eight years. I taught Bible studies and Sunday school, sang in the choir, served on boards, and was blessed with several strong mentors.
And underneath all of it was a gnawing feeling of inferiority. Of never being enough. Not good enough.
Twenty-two years into our marriage, we were in trouble. We didn't know how to talk. Between the kids' activities, church, and a demanding career, we were trying to survive living in a tornado. When we finally sat down and discussed divorce, it was surreal. I felt sick. Worthless, ashamed, a failure. Neither of us could relate or even converse. We were both hurt and hurting so much.
We sought counseling. We endured counseling. And our marriage survived the harshest lies Satan could throw at us. Next year, Lord willing, we'll celebrate fifty years together.
The last ten years have been hard in their own way, but looking back I can see God's hand moving. We served in full-time ministry for three years alongside some exceptional, selfless servants, and we saw God move and stay situations. We had some rough edges knocked off. The hard edges of legalism got filed down, and grace came flooding in. I used to be a Pharisee. Now I know people don't need more rules. They need to be loved right where they are.
My own healing really began five or six years ago, when I stopped striving and running hard and simply chose to slow down and listen to what God was saying. I came to understand that I wasn't always right, that I was vulnerable, and that there was more of life to come as I came closer to the Father.
These days my prayer is simple: What are you going to do in me today, God? River Song is part of His answer. I believe He has someone waiting on the other side of this conversation. I have walked through a number of life's challenges, and God has not failed me. I would be honored to walk with you on your path.
"Everybody is sinful or hurt or broken. Everybody has or will hurt somebody sometime. We often believe others' lies about us. We feel unworthy, not good enough, ashamed. We wonder how God could love or accept us, because He is holy, perfect, sinless. But God loved us so much that He sacrificed His Son, Jesus, to make a way for us to be with Him. We only need believe in Him and confess the name of Jesus to become God's child and live with Him forever."
That's the gospel in my own words, and every conviction below stands on it.
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My coaching draws on trauma-informed healing, inner child and reparenting work, father- and mother-wound work, Holy Spirit-led inner healing, and grace-based identity in Christ. But most of what I bring was learned the slow way: in the church, at work, and at my own kitchen table.
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