I laugh at how hindsight reveals God orchestrating things all along. Sometimes He was protecting the boy whose hands would one day be used to heal, even while his own heart was hurting. Sometimes God stood back and watched as a headstrong young man made foolish choices, resulting in pain for those around him. Other times God was gently guiding and nudging, using the hands of others. But at all times He was there – it just took 48 years for me to acknowledge Him.
I spent the first half of my life sarching for something to satiate an inner longing. I tried to fill the void with the things of the world, only to find myself empty. The second half has been an amazing journey of surrender, faith and, finally, peace.
At 68, I look back on a lifetime of memories. Some stand out and beg to be shared for one reason or another. I pray that anyone reading this understands that I am not only sharing these details in order to document my life for posterity – both the good and the bad – but also to provide a glimmer of hope that indeed “His ways are not our ways” and no one is beyond His reach.