Hi Friends,

I am due for an update to let you know what’s been going on. Many of you are vested in our well-being, and you have been praying for our family. I want to thank you for your prayers. I accept your special grace. I see God through you. True story.

Were it not for you, I would sit in the screaming silence of a silent God. For the record, if I were God, I would let you know I was with you. You would feel me and hear from me. When you screamed out in pain, I would respond. You would say, “I know God exists because He is with me as an experienced reality.”

But who is to say it is not your prayers lifting my nose above the waterline day by day? On those days when the water is choppy, perhaps it is your beautiful palms lifted in five seconds of prayer that raise me two to three inches for the day. Brother, sister, two to three inches is life when your nose is splashing in the waterline on a choppy day. Keep praying, please.

Lord, I don’t believe; help my unbelief. Lord, I don’t believe, but I accept the prayers of my beloved believers. Lord, Your peekaboo when people most need You is unbecoming.

As it is, I’m at the local pub, cruising. I rode my mountain bike over and I am drinking a fine locally brewed lager. Well, now I am several craft beers deep. Who’s counting?

Notwithstanding these beautiful hops, it’s been a beautiful day. The birds are singing, it’s 74 degrees, moderately cloudy, and the wind is pleasant—not that rascally crap-wind that irritates me so.

As I sit here at the local pub, a good friend, a neighbor, came over to have a beer with me. That’s funny, let’s call it a few beers.

We were chopping it up, talking about all the things—except my son, Cooper. I didn’t want to talk about Cooper because why would I drop this on another man if I didn’t need to? No need to. My friend and neighbor didn’t know.

My wife shows up and meets us both after her workday, and she mentions something about Cooper. We briefly share the story with my friend. My friend then shares from the deep place, where the coins are, the place where most people come up for air, and where this friend does not; he shares, hard.

His story resonates.

It’s beautiful and sad, and tears fill my eyes. They fill my friend’s eyes. They fill my wife’s eyes. We’re all f**king crying, at the local pub, on a beautiful day, with the pleasant winds.

Before proceeding, it’s important, I think, to tell you about the kindest thing that has happened to me, by a stranger.

We were in Eastern Europe, my wife and I. Summer, 2010. The point of our being in Eastern Europe is best saved for another day, but suffice it to say, we were doing God’s work. We got beat up, badly, spiritually. I can attest, there are demons that roam this earth. We met them, and they are demonic. What shall I say? We had our asses handed to us. Pure spiritual beatdown, top to bottom.

We left Eastern Europe with our tails between our legs, beat down, humbled, hurt. We flew home through Amsterdam.

We were in Amsterdam for a 12-hour layover through the early morning hours. I was sleeping on the hard floor of the airport using my backpack as my pillow, in the fetal position, my two hands in the prayer position between my knees. As I slept, I vaguely remember a person walking over to me and laying a blanket over me. It was not a dream, they did. A person walked over to me and laid a blanket over me as I slept on the ground, and then walked away. To this day, I don’t know who this person was.

I love you, person. You remain with me.

I don’t know why, but today this registers as the kindest thing a stranger has done for me. I remember it vividly.

Back to tonight. As I sat at our table with my wife and friend, talking suicide and loss, tears filled my eyes. Nothing really unusual about this; it happens. Except tonight, a retired law enforcement officer from another table, whom I did not know, came over and said, “Looks like you need a hug.” And this big, bearded man hugged me. And we stood there and hugged, silent, for a long time.

Ah yes, the silent God. I see You now, not so unbecoming. I stand corrected.

I am telling you now, this is the second kindest thing a stranger has done for me. The kindness shook me.

Who notices things like this? Who gets up out of their chair to come over and hug a stranger in a pub?

Bro.

God?