The Letter

A letter to my future self, written in February of 2022:

These past few months have been completely life changing. I don’t know if I will ever be able to wrap my head around everything that has happened. It’s so hard to put into words. Even for me. 🤪

Sometimes I feel like I need to talk about everything. To explain it … say it all out loud so I might understand it. So that others will understand too. But then I feel like I need to just let it go: Let it go and just accept the miracle and be grateful. Which I am. Believe me I am.

Six months ago I almost lost Eric. We almost lost Eric.

It was the most terrifying experience—I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. (Not that I wish harm on anyone.) But it sucked. It was scary. It was confusing. It was overwhelming. It flipped our world upside down.

But… it was exactly what needed to happen.

I had so much anxiety and fear before he got sick. Before I knew or would admit that he was. It’s like my soul knew what was about to happen… what needed to happen. And then it did. Two hospital visits (and a ton of medical bills later) he’s better than ever. Healthy. Sober. Changed.

And my anxiety…it’s gone.
Our marriage had transformed.
You can’t put a price on that.

And Ethan. Let’s talk about Ethan. I’m no expert on how most 5th graders would respond to something like this. But he’s quite possibly the biggest miracle of all. This was terrifying for him too. While he didn’t experience what I did in the ER that night, or what my father did in the car ride, or my family who had to have him arrested and committed, he saw enough.

He also experienced the aftermath. The slow transformation. His new father. How frightening and unsettling that must have been! There were several weeks where I had to go work out of town, and they were alone, just the two of them. He’s watched us both struggle with changes. Me, his mother going to work full-time after six years of being home. His father, struggling with finding work, and working in the same industry that contributed to his breakdown.

Watching his parents completely change their lifestyle.

No more drinking.

Looking for a church and helping be the one that finds the church, a year later, that makes us all want to go more than on Sunday – but on Wednesday and every other opportunity we have! Reading his Bible. Attending youth group twice a week. That’s the biggest miracle.

We were shook. Hard. Which is exactly what needed to happen. God grabbed us by the shoulders and shook the ever loving snot out of us.

It hurt.

It still does.

But I wouldn’t change anything. Eric would probably say the same. After he’s done sucking his thumb. 😋

It amazes me how much can change so quickly. How God will open doors and close others with the blink of an eye. How fears, and the impossible walls can completely fade away. Sometimes a door will open to reveal another set of stairs. But after the first step they start to move like an escalator. Sometimes the door slowly shuts. But what I am learning is to trust in God. To thank Him for everything. Even the scary stuff. Even the sad.

I know that compared to what others have gone through, my trials seem like a walk in the park.

It has not been easy, and we are still healing but the process is worth it because we are moving forward. We aren’t stuck anymore. We aren’t blind to what we were doing. Sure, there are unknowns and trials…

but man, God is good.

So, there it is. Reading this again, three years later, I honestly barely remember how I felt at the time. What I do know is that God knew what was needed to wake us up. To get our attention.

And it was h o r r i f y i n g.

But it gave us motivation, courage, and a complete change in perspective. A new focus on what was most important. Not drinking. Not partying. Instead a chance to once again repair not only our relationship, but what is the most important relationship, with God.

So what happened in 2021? Oh boy, well let me tell you.