Rich Dixon continues his story:

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Last time we ended with, “You should write a book.”

Of course, I dismissed this ridiculous notion. I was a math teacher. What did I know about writing a book?

My friend Dick Foth says we’re creatures of story. We’re drawn to stories. We connect through stories.

Everyone has a story. Our stories are a gift. And the only reason to have a gift is to share it.

Dick helped me reframe an apparently silly suggestion. It wasn’t about writing a book.

It was about sharing my story.

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So, ten years later, I revisited those rambling, discombobulated journal entries. When Pete prodded me into writing in the darkness of depression, the pages felt like disconnected grumblings. As I reviewed them now with a fresh perspective, a path emerged from the tangled wanderings.

Twenty years removed from my injury, I perceived in my journal a clear thread of God at work. As I sifted the entries and the chaff fell away, I saw breadcrumbs marking my journey through the darkness.

It was all there, the people and events God sent in His timing. Heaven. Elevator. Leonard. Frankenstein. Pete.

My horrible response to a catastrophic injury led to a decade-long sojourn through a jumbled, chaotic darkness. Now, looking back, I saw Jesus’ clear, constant presence. Despite my resistance, God used difficult circumstances for good. In His timing, not mine.

I didn’t create the story of Relentless Grace. It materialized before me on the pages of what feels like a God-guided journal I never wanted to write.

I just shared my story, the gift of God’s perfect faithfulness in the face of my persistent lack of faith. The gift of hope in the midst of hopelessness.

Plus…an unexpected surprise twist no one could have anticipated.

To be continued…