I was born into and grew up in a military family. When I was two months old, we lived in Japan for two years before relocating to the States when I was almost four. 

During that time, my father suddenly left my mother and I, never to be heard from again. Rejection and loneliness left a deep scar on my heart that impacted my life for years to come.

Growing up, I had a normal childhood in North Carolina for a few years, and that is where I heard about Jesus for the first time. 

We attended a small house church, and I read my Children’s Bible often. I was drawn to King Josiah, who was a little bit older than I was at the time when he became king. The seeds of the Gospel were being planted.

Eventually, we moved to our family’s farm in Louisiana where I met my grandmother. I didn’t have any friends in that small town so she became the person that I hung out with. 

She was small in stature but loved her ten children and handful of grandchildren deeply. She instilled a heritage of faith in her children that would be passed down to me. 

I only knew her for a few months as I saw her health decline as she passed away. Again, the most important people would be there for a short time, only to leave me alone later. 

We moved to Texas when I was nine. I was desperate for friendship. We attended a small church, and I joined the youth group. One night at home, my mom shared Romans 10:9-10 with me. 

I heard how Jesus had died for our sins and was resurrected from the grave so that we could live in a relationship with Him now and eternally. I accepted Christ as my Savior and dedicated my life to Him. 

After joining a new church, I got very involved in the youth ministry. I interned with my youth pastor, volunteered/led in a few areas of the department, and would even preach to my peers.

This would continue for many years as I was taught how to follow Christ. All the while, God was patiently trying to heal the broken parts of me that only He could see.

I knew how to study His Word and talk with Him. But I never allowed Him to work in my life entirely. I spent years trying to heal my childhood pain on my own through dating relationships, success in sports/church, and validation from people.

Still, those attempts never led to fulfillment and only kept me in a place of being brokenhearted and living in sin. 

On June 16th, 2017, I went on a first date with the woman who would become my wife. She was, is, and will always be the best person that I’ve ever met. After a year of trying to have children, we were told that IVF was our only choice. It was heartbreaking to hear, but we didn’t give up.

Our first transfer was a miscarriage. A few months later, on June 16th, 2021, we would experience our second miscarriage. It was Father’s Day weekend, and baby dedications took place at the church I worked for. We grieved deeply while celebrating other families. 

I spent years serving God. I preached His Word to literally thousands of people. I dedicated my life to working for and building His church. And yet the childhood pain of my past crept back in with questions like “If God is my Father, how could this happen?” “Is He punishing me?” “Has He given up on me?”

We decided to try for two embryos, and on June 16th 2022, our twin boys were born. The theme of my life so far is that in the best or darkest days, God is an eternally good Father. He drew me to Himself and revealed His love. He raised me through my victories, failures, and sins.

REFLECTION QUESTIONS

1. In moments of grief or joy, do you rely on God as your Father? 

2. Do you trust that He can heal the needs of your soul? 

3. If not, what are some ways that you can surrender those things to Him?