A life-changing road trip

When I was eight years old, our next-door neighbor came to our home to tell my mother, my younger brother, and me that our father had just died on the golf course. It was the day of my parents’ tenth wedding anniversary; it was a deeply grievous day.

The next few days we met with our family pastor. He told my brother and me that God had taken our father, and that there was no way we could understand that. We just had to accept it. But I could not accept it. I rebelled at what the pastor said God had done. In my child-mind I believed God to be wholly good and that He would not take my father when my brother and I needed him.

*Science and Health*: A New Book
Always digging deeper
March 7, 2016

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