My story is a love story.

For a long time, my story was about looking for love in all the right places.  Saying and doing all the right things, trying hard, hoping that someday, if I did enough good things, I might end up being worthy of love. 

Good things happened during those try-hard years.  I married my college sweetheart, Andy, and we had four children together.  We became missionaries to the Solomon Islands and worked to complete a New Testament in the Arosi language.

While good things were happening on the outside, though, I was falling apart on the inside.  Trying hard created enormous anxiety, which then led to depression.  As I was slipping into depression, Andy was using pornography to deal with his issues.  Eventually, the façade of our fabulous goodness fell, and we were left with a marriage and a missionary career in crisis.  At that point, there was no more try-hard left in me.  I just could not.

When I could no longer say or do the right things, when all I could do was lie in bed and cry, here is what I found:

Love.

The love of God, rich and pure, measureless and strong. 

And here is what I learned:

Love is a gift.

Love is not something I earn.

Love never lets me go, no matter what.

I receive it gratefully.  I give it freely.

Love is what carries me home.

Life is still full of pain and disappointment.  I have questions.  I have hurt.  I have outrage over injustice. 

But because I know that it’s not all up to me, I have hope.  God is redeeming, when I cannot. 

God’s faithfulness is great.  His love is eternal.  That’s the real love story, and we all get to live in it.

We live in the Dallas, Texas area these days, where I am a Licensed Professional Counselor in private practice.  It’s my pleasure to work with clients who need to know, like I do, that we are all loved with an everlasting love.  I also enjoy sharing my story with groups, and I am available for speaking engagements.