Life was falling apart and all I could do was crumble atop the people closest to me. My wife and kids were dodging emotional boulders, and ducking away from tumbling personality projectiles.
I looked at Leah and she gave me that neutral expression that said, “I’m with you either way.”
I used to suck it up and go about my days in hopes of the effects lessening or that I wouldn’t do something to myself in those darkest moments of grief and despair over the conflicting feelings brought about by another of those anniversaries.
Our hopes, dreams, value and personal footprint becomes easily blown away, and thus we become disposable.
Maybe it’s because I’ve also spent the last many years with church bodies that look like everyone just crawled off of the battlefield, and were praising God for the chance to get right back out there to fight for others.
We’re sending our kids off into a world vastly different than the rainbow sprinkled snow globe they’re raised in.
Staff men’s ministries with volunteers of actual men who’ve messed up more in life than leaving a dog-eared copy of the latest men’s grooming magazine on the counter.
