Dear Teacher Wendy

Growing up, my mom and dad always told me that I could never say no to a dare; that if someone told me I couldn’t do something it would only add fuel to my fire. So, I think it’s safe to say that risk-taking has been and continues to be part of my DNA. At the ripe old age of fourteen, there’s an infamous story about how a friend and I “borrowed” the church station wagon and drove the distance between Wakefield, NE and Vermont, IL. The details are endless, but to this day I’ve always ended up on the right side of the bars, oftentimes by the skin of my teeth. But I guess God had a plan for this mischievous spirit of mine. Brennan Manning once told a story about the wisdom of an old Cajun man. He said, “son, if you ain’t who you is, you is who you ain’t.” I’ve always appreciated that statement and have shared it often with others, especially those who have lost their way in life and are searching to find themselves. I can honestly tell you, without Jesus and my wife Wendy, the life that I live today would look immensely different. Even as I sit here driving while Emma is writing, the challenges which have made up my life have come from poor choices which can ultimately lead you into a pit. Emma and I just drove past a safari vehicle which read on the spare tire the phrase, “life-changing journeys.” I’m not sure a safari can change your life, in fact I’m quite positive it doesn’t. But I guess there are worse ways to advertise a safari. That said, some of the greatest lessons that have stuck with me to this day I have learned not on the top floor of life or even the ground level, but the basement. For the first twenty-six years of my life being vulnerable was as foreign to me as eating a rolex is to you. I’d love to be able to tell you the last sixteen years of my life have been vastly different and in some ways they totally have been. But if I was extremely honest, the battle for inner peace has never been stronger. As a man who’s prided himself on taking risks, depression and anxiety have often gotten the best of me. Blindly uprooting my family to a different world was one of the most naïve decisions I ever made. And to this day I still wonder if it was the right one. As a family, we often refer to a man who at the beginning of his life made some great choices but toward the end he wrote an entire book on one word: meaningless. There’s a synonym for meaningless and that’s the word hopeless. If I had a dollar for every one of those moments in the last seven years and those dollars compounded themselves, by the world’s standards, I would be a very wealthy man. Before you read any further you must know one thing. If you’re looking for a book whose purpose is to motivate or propel you to be all you can be, I’m sorry to disappoint, but you’ve come to the wrong place. Just go pick up the latest Joel Osteen. If you want to read a book on the inadequacy of man compared to the magnificence of God, you just might have found the gold nugget or at least a great slice of pie. Any story worth telling isn’t about what we can do, but what God can do through those who are willing. Throughout the history of humankind God has chosen and continues to choose not the perfect but the willing, from Adam all the way to the Apostle Paul and beyond. There was only one person who ever walked this planet with not only a perfect heart but a willing one. And because of this man and His example, our family made the choice and continues to make the choice to die to our will to fulfill His.