My Story
// THE LONG ROADWhen you're young, 50 sounds like the end of the road. Now that I'm here, it feels like my story is just beginning — and I'm more excited than I have been in a long time.
I've been searching my whole life. For work. For family. For God. Always reaching for something just past where I was standing. I didn't understand that about myself for a long time. Now I think it might be the most important thing about me.
I grew up the oldest of three boys raised by a single mother who worked constantly because she had to. We raised ourselves, mostly. There was no father in the picture. I don't say that for sympathy — it just is what it is. But somewhere in that house, in that absence, I built a vision. A home with a wife, 12 children — so I could be the father I never had.
I spent years searching for God across continents. Turns out all those roads just kept proving He was already with me. Had been the whole time.
I built the family I always wanted — or half of it. I dreamed of twelve children. I got six. Twenty years. I provided — worked hard, kept the lights on, did what needed doing. But somewhere in all that providing I became the thing I was trying not to be. I was in the house. I just wasn't present in it. I didn't see it until I was forced to stop.
The accident changed everything. Housebound at 50, more time to think than I've ever had — and nowhere to run from what I finally had to see clearly. Twenty years living for someone who only needed me for what I earned.
I'm not bitter. I'm clear.
My kids don't really know who I am yet. That's what this is for. This website. The sanctuary I dream of building in Arizona. All of it.
I want to build something my children can stand on. A place where presence and provision are finally the same thing — where the work is being there. Something we build together. A legacy that says: I was here. And I did this for you.
The ADHD brain doesn't do straight lines. Never has. But I'm starting to think every road I took was exactly the right one — just not for the reasons I thought at the time.
I'm still searching. I think I always will be.
The difference now is I know what I'm walking toward.