Find
Hope
Where I’d prayed for everyone else for so long... I had ignored the fact that I did need God.
In the third grade I didn’t know how to spell tadpole. For every letter I missed my dad would whip me across my back with a leather belt until I would bleed.
I was absolutely crystal clear on one thing. “I’m empty. I’m insecure. I’m a follower, not a leader like my Dad raised me to be.
Dad would be like; “Yeah I will be at your event. I will be at your wrestling match.” He wouldn’t show up.
My dad came to me at one point and poured out his heart to me. He was almost to the point of tears as he said, “Son, I love you. I’m worried about you; about where you’re going with your life right now.”
Because he was a quadriplegic I felt bad about divorcing him.
We tried everything possible to make his life normal. He studied in a very good school. He tried to study hard and behave very well. Nevertheless, society had a hard time accepting him.
I remember one time we saw the hand of God working as an airplane pilot called over the radio. His engine had quit in flight.
People disappear all the time and nobody would have ever known what happened to them. It was my intent to kill them for what they had done to me.
"I grew up in a preacher’s home. When I started thinking about the cowboy deal my dad was like, “We don’t do that.” I said, with a laugh, “What do you mean, we?”