The Courage Project: Finding Joy in Unexpected Places

Observing others and their resilience can inspire you to find joy, even in the most challenging times.

A story is an account of imaginary, real people and events that convey a message. It typically has a structure that includes a beginning, middle, and end, and often involves characters, a setting, and a plot that drives the narrative forward.

For us, our stories are hard, and some of us are at the startling beginning, the painful middle, or the unpredictable end that sometimes plays out with a happy ending and other times with the twist that leaves you saying “This was not supposed to be my story” or “This was someone else's story, but certainly not supposed to be mine”. Five years ago, that was the very words Krista and I said to each other —This was someone else’s story, the story we would pray with people at church about, or watch on TV in a Lifetime movie, Dateline, or read about on Facebook and say to each other “I saw that coming a mile away!” But when it became our story, we were in shock, completely frozen in that that moment. I remember being on stage at Hillsong Church in Mesa, Arizona, about to lead worship and getting that text from Krista, and literally walking off stage and heading right home thinking “Not my story”.

Like a thief in the night, our joy was stolen, reality shattered, and our world upside down. We did not know which way was north, the lights were out, it was dark, and we felt so alone. We could not hear anything, see anything, and even as we cried at the top of our lungs, we couldn’t make a sound—it was the shock. We had every thought, but could not really think and so we just cried for what seemed like forever, and had no more tears left when that day was done.

The message that our story conveyed at that time was brokenness, failure, anger, and confusion. The imagery was bleak and there was no structure to it, only chaos and confusion. We didn’t have a community to lean on, there were no people that understood, any pastors that truly cared, or friends that were committed for the long haul. It’s been five years since, so it would have been a lot to ask of a friend to help carry that kind of emotional weight.

We sought the counsel of lawyers, detectives, investigators, and even news outlets that would all taunt and encourage us to push forward, but it didn’t feel right at the time, and certainly not of the right motivation. It felt less inspirational and more like fuel to the flames. So we did what we felt was natural, miss her greatly, and with deep unconditional love, hope that this too would pass and we would be reunited soon.

As weeks turned to months, and birthdays marked the years, the courage to press on (emotionally) came later, as we slowly started finding the building blocks that we would cobble together, making up the “House That Healing Built”—The space that was safe for us and others to begin to that process of clinging to hope yet discovering ways to find joy in our days again. The hearth where inspiration could start to warm and penetrate the chill in our bones. This is The Finding Courage Project (.org) and My Soul Space (.org)—places where people can come together, share their stories, and find warmth and inspiration in each other's experiences. It symbolizes the beginning of healing and the rekindling of hope and joy after a period of loss and pain.

These stories start with a beginning, they have a middle, and then eventually an end. Our story telling framework provides a comprehensive guide for parents and children to express their experiences with estrangement and help build their story. It covers various stages, from the backstory and initial reactions to ongoing effects and support systems, offering insights and coping strategies. The goal is to facilitate understanding, self reflection, and eventual healing. You can walk it alone, or we can walk it with you. You are not alone in this.

I also want to say that The Finding Courage Project is more than  just story telling, it’s about relationship building. We are a community of people, with a shared experience, and a road that is not meant to be traveled alone. We will be starting “Coffee Connections” in the Fall (Stay tuned for those dates and places) so we can get together and hang. No necessary structured agenda other than just being there for each other. Eventually, I would love to host a Golf Event (because that is my love language) and other activities that will serve to get us out of our heads and into relationship that creates opportunities to find some “Joy in the Waiting”. Trust me, it is simple, but it helps.

Until then, I would love to connect one on one, and hear your story, so that we might inspire each other by the little things that keep us both going. Or perhaps its just a cup of coffee, a listening ear, and a new connection.

Connect For Coffee Here.

Get a Story Writing Framework Guide Here.

7. I See You

If you see people for who they truly are—not the mask of hurt and pain they wear—then and only then can we love them truly. And only then can they feel truly loved. That's where healing thrives.

It's profound when you think about it. It is what we all want for ourselves—to be truly seen. It is also perhaps the thing we do the least with others. In our lowest moments, we all wish people would see us, know us, accept us, and love us with all our warts and scars.

How freeing it would be not to dress up, put on our costume for the day, and carry the weight of an identity so heavy that by the time we get home, we're emotionally exhausted. Yet, when we are with others, we're so convinced by the narrative we have played all day, that we start to also see people as actors in our play.

Since launching this foundation and site, telling people about the community, offering help, and wanting to hear your stories, I've been having conversations and receiving texts and messages from so many. I've been working on a “storytelling framework” that will help others articulate their story in such a way that it helps process the trauma while realizing the beauty and hope that still exists all around you. We will touch on that more later, but I was surprised by a few of the conversations. I just wasn’t expecting them, honestly.

“I love what you are doing and it is so needed. If you are interested, I would love to give you the perspective of the child in my situation.” —signed, a Daughter.

“I am not in a relationship with my brother and father and sadly never will be.” —signed, a Daughter.

“I love you, but I won’t read your posts or your site because it hurts too much to face it all. But I support you 100%.” —signed, a Daughter.

My response to them was, I see you! It's not lost on this Dad that the weight of estrangement falls on both sides of the scale.

I often think back to my own—not so little girl—now, and I know I wasn't perfect. I can recount times I failed or could have done better, loved harder, been more patient, sacrificed more time, worked less, and the list goes on. But I also realize that I did the best I could. We live imperfect lives in an imperfect world, balancing relationships and challenges as if a tightrope, doing our best to stay on until we reach the other side. That’s living. We do the best we can. So I try not to own too much guilt and shame. While I might have been too self-absorbed in my own pain to see it before, I am now more aware and seeing people differently through a clear lens. It's not just about me or the moms and dads, but the kids too. It was in these responses, that the connections truly hit me.

So, here's what I want you to know, kids (and I get it, you are not kids anymore, but to us, you are always going to be the little kid that ran around, laughing and smiling when life was simple, and so the reference “kids”)— I see you. If you've put distance between you and your parents, I’m sure you have a good reason. Even if it was your choice, it must have hurt then and even still, because we were made for relationships. If the distance was imposed on you, and you're hurting and wanting that gap bridged, I feel for you and hope that day comes. Hear me when I say, even in the darkest moments, deep down, your parents love and miss you because you are a part of them, their DNA. I only say that because that is what I tell myself when I think of my own. Krista and I remind each other that in every minute of her absence, in every word of the narrative, she has our DNA. The strength it took to leave is the strength we gave her. The courage to stand on her own, even as a high schooler, she got from her mom & I. The words of deep faith and love for others in her journals left behind came from a heart made from ours. Her sense of family will also, hopefully, kick in someday too because we have a strong sense of family ourselves and always have. I also know she knows her Dad’s love feels is unconditional, unwavering, and somewhere I am sure she feels the same, because she has my DNA.

I'm glad I heard some of the stories from these “kids” with strained relationships with their parents and siblings. It's a solid perspective and a reminder that love goes both ways. That a break has two sides. And that hope is for everyone. But don’t get stuck—do something. Maybe reach out and tell me your story, and I will share more of mine with you. I am here if you need someone or resources, just do something. Anything. If you are local to Arizona (Phoenix and surrounding areas, I will come grab coffee or dinner).

I will leave you with this. Embrace vulnerability. Sharing your story can be healing, even when it's difficult. Expressing emotions helps in moving forward.

#Healing #Love #Relationships #Parenting #Children #Family #Estrangement #Connection #Hope