Our story is unfinished, as we battle each day to pick up the pieces of lives shattered and wounds that only God can heal.
Most people find God in a church. We found God in an ICU room.
Josh suffered a massive brain stroke March 24, 2016 – on his 39th birthday. One moment he was a vibrant, strong and athletic young man – coaching youth football and striving in his career; and then suddenly he was battling for his life. Josh endured three brain surgeries and wasn’t expected to live. If he did live we were told his chances of ever walking, eating, talking or ever remembering his life before we slim. Today, he is back home with me and our two kids. As a family we are changed – through the fire we found Jesus and strive to find him more each day.
My book Father Please Let Him Live retells the process of walking through the valley with Josh and the beautiful stones that we’ve all collected along the way.
Our physical and emotional devastation has been heavy, but HIS GRACE has been and will continue to be sufficient as we learn more and more about trusting in God and believing that all things in our lives work toward our good in the end – as we have been called to his purpose and His glory and the salvation found only in the blood of Jesus Christ.
God is teaching us that joy can be found even in the worst of our circumstances. Our lives are far from perfect – we cry a lot and our pain is intense, but our HOPE is the lifeline that carries us through each day. Cry with us. Pray with us. Or just follow us from a distance. Whatever your heart feels moved to do on our behalf. As we share our journey with you we pray that through our pain, you too will find the love of God and his everlasting promise to one day wipe our tears away and paint beauty from our ashes.
Check the blog for entries on our journey and stay tuned for updates on the book – “Father please let him live”.
Buy our new book FATHER PLEASE LET HIM LIVE
79 Was the ICU room number where our lives were changed forever and we would come to truly know Jesus Christ and the long walk ahead of us in carrying our cross.