Sometimes I forget that my little family survived a very painful, very twisted, psychologically effed and extremely public church scandal. 1/

I forget about the day my son got a call from his friend in Greece because his dad was in the papers there. I forget that my daughter, at just five years old, opened the door to reporters who were staked outside our home hoping for an angle to spin. /2

I forget how I lost 20 pounds and suffered insomnia because my body was processing what my soul could not. /3

I forget these things because life gives us the gift of time, of healing, and because we’ve embraced the truth and all it cost us. /4

Every once in a while I remember how it felt then and I allow myself to cry a little, to feel it, to acknowledge its wound, to trace along the edges of the scar I’ll always carry. And then I say thank you, to God, for the moment we find ourselves in now. /5

For the simple pleasures we will never take for granted. For good sleep and belly laughs and days that pass by without a hint of drama. /6

If you find yourself currently within a moment of ache, a time where it’s all spinning out of control, I want to offer my story to you as proof of life. You will find your way through, your story will untangle from the pain, and one day you will again know joy. /7

I know it, because I have lived it. I know you are stronger than you think and I know you have what it takes to survive your current pain. You have a chorus of fellow scarred love warriors at your back, willing you through each second. And THAT is the real Church, my friend. /end