The Sunday Everything Changed

My heart sank, my body felt weak, and all I could do was listen and pray.

It was Super Bowl Sunday. Government offices were closed. There was nobody to call for help or more information on a Sunday afternoon. If what my son was saying was true, I couldn’t even contact the director of the program for answers. I felt helpless, not knowing what was happening or who to turn to.

Sadly, because of everything we had already been through with our son—the lies that had been told over the years about us and others—I didn’t know what to believe. Was he telling the truth?

As a parent, all you want to do is protect your children, believe them, and keep them safe. That was all we had ever wanted for T. We were doing everything we possibly could to protect him from himself and the path he was on—a path of self-destruction and self-harm.

And if I am completely honest, we also had to protect our family and our other children.

He was on a mission to destroy us, no matter what it took. The hatred and anger inside him had taken over, and he would stop at nothing to get what he thought he wanted: to be placed in foster care and no longer be part of our family.

That day, I was dying inside at the thought of him being hurt by the very people we trusted to help and care for him.

He could not live in our home. No program or facility within the United States would take him because of his escalating and erratic behavior. We had exhausted every resource available to us, and the court system would not help us—unless he actually tried to kill someone.

We were not willing to take that risk.

We had children to protect. We had to protect ourselves. Yet we loved our son deeply and desperately wanted him to get help, holding on to the hope that one day he would be able to come home.

All of these thoughts raced through my mind.

What now?

First and foremost, we had to somehow get to the bottom of what was happening and find the truth.

In the days that followed, that became harder than I could have imagined.

Just when I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, it did.

The next eight months became a battle.

A battle to protect our son.

A battle to protect our children.

A battle to protect our rights as parents.

A battle to keep our sanity.

When I think back to that Super Bowl Sunday, I had no idea what was about to unfold in my life or in the life of my family.

The story is long. It is complicated. At times, it feels almost impossible to tell.

But if you’ll stay with me, I will do my best to share it.

I will share the details in a way that is appropriate. In a way that protects my son and honors his story. In a way that helps explain how my life was spun completely out of control and how it ultimately led me to where I am today.

The truth is, I could start at the beginning, but somehow that feels even harder.

So this story may come out in pieces.

It may be sporadic.

It may not always be in chronological order.

But I will share what is on my heart when I feel led to share it.

One thing you should know before I share this story: it isn’t over.

We are still walking through parts of it. Some chapters have closed, but others are still being written. There are still wounds healing, questions without answers, and days when faith is still required moment by moment.

I don’t know how every part of this story will end, but I know God has been faithful through every page so far.

My greatest hope is that through every part of this story, you will see that I was never alone.

I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my Lord and Savior was walking beside me through every brutal day and every heartbreaking moment.

He never left my side.

I know this because, on paper, there is no reason I should have been able to keep getting up every morning.

My marriage should not have survived.

My children should not have been able to continue living their lives under the scrutiny of our community and the weight of everything that happened.

Yet somehow, we did.

And I can give you only one explanation:

Jesus.

He has been my Fourth Man in the fire time and time again.

“It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; He will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.” — Deuteronomy 31:8