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I am not good at remembering dates. I can barely remember my wife and children's birthdays and don't even ask me to tell you the birthdays of my grandchildren. I do remember events and things that happened during those special events but God just didn't gift me the ability to remember the day and date of special events. I remember the moment I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal savior. It was at the First Baptist Church in Stanberry, Missouri. I think I was in the 4th or 5th grade. I remember the floors of the sanctuary sloped downward to the pulpit. I especially remember the feeling of warmth, comfort and peace I felt during that moment. The day I accepted Jesus as my Savior must have really irritated Satan, because after that day I faced many trials and tribulations. When I was 14 to 15 years old I was sexually assaulted by a male school teacher who was also my wrestling coach on several occasions. When I turned 16 years old I began using drugs and drinking alcohol in great excess. I drove my car like the devil was chasing me and on at least one occasion probably should have been severely injured in a car accident, “But God” had different plans for me. On the night of my Junior prom I drank so much alcohol that I passed out and my friends put me in the passenger seat of my car, drove me home and parked my car in the drive. When I didn't come in my father came out and carried my lifeless body into the home. He later told me that for a moment he couldn't find a pulse, I likely should have died of alcohol poisoning, “But God” had different plans. My parents and our neighbors, Jim & Sherry Lerette, prayed over my lifeless body until I finally awoke. During my senior year in high-school I was dating a young girl from Albany. I started double dating with another friend who was then dating, Dena, the woman who became my first wife. One night Dena confided in me that she had been sexually assaulted by the person that I thought was my friend. I think this common experience may have been what initially attracted me to her. I wanted to try and protect her. When we got married I had just turned 19 in November, she was 16 years old, and our first daughter was born in January. I will let you do the math on that. Our second daughter was born just 18 months after that. When I was just 23 years old my first son, Jerry Craig was born. He was very ill and spent 3 months in neonatal intensive care and only 1 day at home. The doctors finally told me they didn't think they would ever be able to cure his illness so I told them to take away all his drugs and just care for him like you would any other child and in just a week he passed away. My heart was broken. For the longest time I felt like I had killed my son. In 1990 my wife Dena gave birth to our second son who was still born. On Christmas day of 1991 I chased a life-flight helicopter and my youngest daughter, Sara was born prematurely. When she was born she weighed 2 pounds 9 ounces and was only 14 inches long. Looking back on all these difficult days I still don't know how I managed, “But God” had plans for me that I didn't yet understand. In 1993 after 8 years of marriage I was served with divorce papers. I am not going to go into the details of why my marriage failed other than to say, we were both immature. We both thought that if we were not getting our needs met by the other, our marriage was a failure. I can tell you now that I am much more mature. One characteristic of a good marriage is when each person looks to give more than they receive.... In the 1990's it was very uncommon for a father to get custody of his children, especially when they were all 3 girls, “But God” had plans for me! Hindsight is 20/20, but I f
