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:
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.