Monday, February 14, 2011

Dancing in the Minefields

Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.

On Saturday night Will King asked me to marry him, and I said yes.  Tonight, as I sit down to write this blog entry, I am smiling.  For over a year, I’ve taken a seat at the computer with a good glass of red wine, played a song on repeat, and let the tears come with my thoughts.  But tonight, the tears are gone – replaced by the peace that comes with love that is a gift from a faithful God.

In September, I got invited to a lunch celebrating the opening of a new HEB in town.  At my table - sitting one person away from me - was Will.  We introduced ourselves, walked to the buffet table, and started talking.  I could tell immediately that he was brilliant, but unassuming.  Kind but strong.  Worldly, but a Texan (and an Aggie) at heart.  I was struck by the kindness and openness in his eyes, and I wanted to know more.

The Friday after we met, after emailing back and forth all week, Will asked me to go to an Aggie football game.  I didn’t know how much he knew about me, but I had promised myself that if I ever was in this situation, I would lay everything out on the table.  I knew that not every man would be able to handle what came along with spending time with me, but that anyone worth my time would want me, the whole me, exactly as it was.  So that Friday, I told him no.  Then I added him as my Facebook friend.  I knew that anything he wanted to know about me he could find there.  The next Monday, I had an email from him waiting for me when I got to my office.  It wasn’t until months later that he told me he found my blog the
first day that we me, and knew everything about me from the beginning.

Once we started talking, we didn’t stop.  From our first two hour lunch, to mile-long, hilarious emails, to perfectly grammatically correct text messages (who else uses semi-colons in texts?), to phone calls lasting long into the night – it was so easy, so comfortable, right from the start. Our jobs are similar, so we started talking about work, but it wasn’t long before we were talking about everything.

Will is an amazing man.  He loves me, and Colleen, and our families with his whole heart.  He has become my best friend, my partner, my confidant.  He loves me for exactly who I am - we are so happy together.  And seeing Colleen grow to love Will is one of the greatest gifts of my life.

I didn’t know what it would be like to fall in love again. I still love Chris, and I will for the rest of my life.  Every day I will look at Colleen and see him in her eyes.  But my love for Will is separate from that love.  My love for Will doesn’t change that love – it’s like my heart just expanded to hold more.

Neither of us went in to that lunch expecting this could happen.  It was completely off our radar – we weren’t looking, or even thinking about it.  But it did.  God led me to Will – he led us to each other.  He has given me this person, this incredible gift, this miracle that I didn’t know I would ever get again.  We are each other’s greatest blessing.

So now, here we are.  No matter how happy we are – we know that life is not always easy. There will be storms and minefields – especially when you are raising a 3 year old.  But together – we can do anything.  Thanks be to God.

Dancing in the Minefields – Andrew Peterson

Well I was 19 you were 21
The year we got engaged
Everyone said we were much to young
But we did it anyway
We got the rings for 40 each from a pawnshop down the road
We said our vows and took the leap now 15 years ago

We went dancing in the minefields
We went sailing in the storm
And it was harder than we dreamed
But I believe that’s what the promise is for

Well ‘I do’ are the two most famous last words
The beginning of the end
But to lose your life for another I’ve heard is a good place to begin
Cause the only way to find your life is to lay your own life down
And I believe it’s an easy price for the life that we have found

And we’re dancing in the minefields
We’re sailing in the storm
This is harder than we dreamed
But I believe that’s what the promise is for
That’s what the promise is for

So when I lose my way, find me
When I loose love’s chains, bind me
At the end of all my faith
to the end of all my days
when I forget my name, remind me

Cause we bear the light of the son of man 
So there’s nothing left to fear 
So I’ll walk with you in the shadow lands 
Till the shadows disappear 
Cause he promised not to leave us 
And his promises are true 
So in the face of all this chaos baby 
I can dance with you 

So let’s go dancing in the minefields
Lets go sailing in the storms
Oh let’s go dancing in the minefields
And kicking down the doors
Oh let’s go dancing in the minefields
And sailing in the storms
Oh this is harder than we dreamed
But I believe that’s what the promise is for
That’s what the promise is for

Thursday, December 30, 2010

One year later....still standing.

One year ago my world broke apart.  But today, one year and one day later, here I am  – still standing.  There is so much that I could say about this year, but here are a few things to sum it up:

  • God is good.  Faith doesn't prevent horrible, tragic things from happening – but it got me through this year.
  • God’s timing is perfect.  It may not be my timing.  It may not be what I think I want.  But it is perfect.
  • Love is the greatest gift.  It is the center.  The beginning and end. And Love never ends.

One year ago, I didn't know if I could ever feel normal again.  I was in so much pain.  My heart had been ripped out of my chest.  My body hurt.  I couldn't walk or pick up Colleen.  In that first week after the accident, there were days that I couldn't think about the next five minutes.  I had to stay focused on my immediate next activity – I couldn't handle thinking of even small amounts of time without Chris. Thinking about a year was impossible.  During that week I got a visit from a dear friend, who as he says, is also a member of the “exclusive club that is not that exclusive” – made up of those of us who have lost a loved one.  He and his family had been an inspiration to me as they dealt with their own tragedy and grief.  He sat next to me on the couch and held my hand as I cried and asked him in desperation, “Will I will be able to make it?”.  He said to me, “All I can say is that I feel different today than I did after a week, after a month, after a year. You will make it.”  Here I am, one year later, and I can say that it is true.

There are moments when I feel Chris so close that it is shocking.  At the lake, when I was sitting with Colleen and wishing he was with us, when a perfect flower fell into the lake right in front of us, floating in beautiful pink contrast to the blue water.  In my backyard, when I noticed for the first time that a tree that I thought was dead had tiny green buds of new life – coming out in the middle of winter. On Christmas Day in Ohio, when I noticed for the first time that snow glistens even when there is no sunshine. Every time I see Colleen, with Chris’ dimpled chin and soft brown eyes, laughing and playing and being a normal, happy two-year-old.  I know that he gives me little gifts – reminders that he, and God, will always be with me.

There will never be a day that I don’t think about Chris.  That I won’t love Chris.  That I won’t be thankful for him and our life together.  That I don’t miss him desperately. That I don’t see his face in Colleen and in my heart.  The hardest thing that I have ever done is to try to remain thankful.  It feels irrational.  It doesn’t come naturally.  But I had to decide – how do I want to live my life?  I remember being in the hospital – as I tried to wrap my brain around my new life – I knew that the last thing Chris would want is for this to ruin my life.  To ruin Colleen’s life. He loved us so much - and we loved him so much - that I knew that this could not be the end of my life.  It had to be the beginning of a new life.

One night during the first week while I was trying to fall asleep, I saw a flash of Colleen’s high school graduation.  I couldn’t see her face clearly, or see the audience or where we were, but I knew was there with our entire family.  I heard her say to me, “Thank you for giving me a beautiful life – even though I know now how hard that must have been.”  I knew at that moment that I would do that for her.  Give her a beautiful life full of joy and love – no matter how hard it was.

I am humbled by the love, support, and prayers that we have received this year.  The power of those prayers is immeasurable. We have felt them pour over us, surrounding us with that greatest gift of love. Thank you, thank you, thank you for lifting us up.

This has been the hardest year of my life.  I have stumbled, cried, and grieved through the valley of shadows.  But I have also lived and loved, praised and thanked, laughed and smiled, and remembered.   And here I am, one year later, still standing. Thanks be to God.

With love,

Brooke Fraser - Shadowfeet

Walking, stumbling on these shadowfeet
toward home, a land that I've never seen
I am changing, less and less asleep
made of different stuff than when I began
and I have sensed it all along
fast approaching is the day

When the world has fallen out from under me
I'll be found in you, still standing
when the sky rolls up and mountains fall on their knees
when time and space are through
I'll be found in you

There’s distraction buzzing in my head
saying in the shadows it's easier to stay
but I've heard rumors of true reality
whispers of a well-lit way


You make all things new
You make all things new
You make all things new
You make all things
You make all things

When the world has fallen out from under me
I'll be found in you, still standing
Every fear and accusation under my feet
when time and space are through
I'll be found in you
when time and space are through
I'll be found in you
when time and space are through
I'll be found in you

Sunday, September 12, 2010

No Matter What

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. " - Jeremiah 29:11-13

God has said, "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you." - Hebrews 13:

In the weeks after our accident, I received two Facebook messages that I read so many times I have them memorized.  They have been on my heart these last few weeks - as we have gotten into the routine of our new life, and see the joy and grace that surrounds us.

The first was from a friend of Chris' who lost her first husband while they were in college.  She sent me the two verses above, and this message:

We serve a God of preparation. He has certainly prepared you for this, although I know you probably feel so ill equipped. He has orchestrated so much to help you through. Take note of all the ways you see God's power in this. You'll be amazed! And one day you'll have an incredible story to tell of how God loves You so much and carried you. It will be an important testimony for your daughter and critical to keep you from doubting your faith.

I remember being in the hospital, and my sister read this message out loud to me.  As tears streamed down my face I vowed to do exactly as she said – and I have.

God’s work in my life has been incredible. He is everywhere.  In the hard moments, in the beautiful moments, the simple and the complex. Each day, I see Him more clearly.
Yesterday, Colleen and I enjoyed one of our first completely free days with nothing to do. We slept late,went to Target, ate lunch at Chick-Fil-A, swam at the pool, and eventually ended up at Half Price Books.  As we walked out, Colleen said, "Look!  Look at the blue sky!  God made the sky.  God made me. God made Momma.  And God loves me very much."  I whispered a little thanks right there in the parking lot.  Even with everything that has happened - she is healthy, happy, and thankful.  Our lives are made of little moments - and I am so blessed that my eyes are open to them like they  never have been before. 

The second message was from someone who has known me since I was a heavy, awkward, frizzy haired 4th grader, and who has been a blessing to me since then.  It said:

I believe in miracles. I believe that God’s love is beyond comprehension and beyond measure. I believe that God is intimately involved in the workings of our lives, all of our lives. What I don’t understand is the whys. Why things happen the way they do. If God wants the best for us, how do we reconcile the bad? Is God stingy with His miracles? Does He follow some mysterious selection process, rewarding the few, punishing the others? This idea contradicts all I know of God. While life, even life with God, is never without pain, I do not believe that God keeps some kind of ultimate score card, or that the truly horrible, unthinkable things that happen to us are caused by God.

As I have struggled though the darkest moments of my own life, and worried over these things, the only conclusion I have been able to draw is that it doesn’t matter. Even if we can know the heart of God (full of love), it is impossible to fully know or understand the WAY of God. And ultimately, it doesn’t matter if we get it or not. God does. The greatest freedom I have found as a person of faith is the freedom from figuring all of it out. To finally say, “I don’t know, I can’t ever really know, but God, I trust You anyway” was the thing that, in those darkest moments, made it possible to continue putting one foot in front of the other.

This message, and  the truth behind it, has been the cornerstone of my faith over the last eight months.  That the “whys” are not important – that it is not our job to understand because we will never understand – and what we have to do is just let go.  Let go and let God lead.  Open our hearts , and trust that whatever happens will happen in His perfect timing.  

Each day, I feel more peaceful .  If I know anything, it is that I can’t plan my life.  It is hard.  Extremely hard.  I want to plan.  I want to know what is next.  But every time I feel anxiety creeping in, I try make myself stop.  Breathe.  Put one foot in front of the other and let myself be led.

Even though I have no idea what is next for us,  I know that we are exactly where we are supposed to be.   That we are meant to be in this place in this time, and that God has beautiful plans for our lives. And that we will continue to trust his plan for us – no matter what.

I’m running back to Your promises one more time
Lord that’s all I can hold on to
I gotta say this has taken me by surprise, but nothing surprises You
Before a heartache can ever touch my life
It has to go through Your hands
And even though I keep asking why, I keep asking why

No matter what, I’m gonna love You
No matter what I’m gonna need You
I know You can find a way to keep me from the pain
But if not, if not, I’ll trust You no matter what, no matter what

When I’m stuck in this nothingness by myself
I’m just sitting in silence
There’s no way I can make it without Your help, I won’t even try it
I know You have Your reasons for everything so I will keep believing
Whatever I might be feeling, God You are my hope
And You’ll be my strength

Anything I don’t have You can give it to me, but it’s ok if You don’t
I’m not here for those things
The touch of Your love is enough on its own

No matter what I still love You and I’m gonna need You
No matter what I’m gonna love You, no matter what I’m gonna need You
I know You can find a way to keep me from the pain
But if not, if not, I’ll trust You

I know You can find a way to keep me from the pain
But if not, but if not, I’ll trust You

No matter what
No matter no matter what
No matter no matter what
No matter no matter what

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Seven months

Seven months. It is incredible that it was only that long ago.  In so many ways it seems like another life, and still, like yesterday.

There is this John Mayer song where there last two lines are:
"Wherever I go.  Whatever I do. I wonder where I am in my relationship to you.
Wherever you go.  Wherever you are.  I watch your pretty life play out in pictures from afar".

These days, I imagine saying the first line Chris  - that wherever I go, whatever I do, I always think about him.  And I imagine him reminding me in the second line that no matter what, he is watching Colleen and I from afar, as our lives continue in the way God intends them to.  I know he will never leave our memories, our hearts, our home, but I still miss him desperately.

It's not the same as in the beginning.  I can go days without the sadness gripping my heart in a choke hold.  Now, when it does come, I take a deep breath and let it wash over me.  If Colleen is with me, I tell her that I am sad because I miss her Daddy.  And, when I am ready, without me even knowing how, I start to feel better, and I am ready to face the next thing that life will inevitably bring.

In Colleen's new princess room
We moved into our new house two weeks ago.  It is a beautiful home, and has already been a blessing to be so close to Chris' parents and Colleen's school.  Colleen loves the new house.  She has a big girl bed complete with princess bedding, a big living room to dance in, and some new freedom.  She can open and close the back door by herself and go out into the backyard alone.  I watch her from the windows in the kitchen as she waters the plants, pets the dog and plays with her sandbox. The weeks of renovations and stress and worry were all worth it for the life we will live here. We are meant to be in this house.

Just as I prayed for, a wonderful young couple who are pregnant with their first baby bought our old house.  They will live a wonderful life in that house.  As I left the night before we closed, I remembered the day we found it.  We had been looking for months, and the minute we walked in we knew it would be our home.  We loved that house and the life we had there, and I am so thankful that God gave us another couple who would love it as much as we did.

The last few months have been so busy, I feel like I haven't had a moment to catch my breath. I sold a car, bought a car, took care of a house on the market, sold a house, bought a house, renovated a house, moved into a house...all on top of the everyday responsibilities of being a working single mom.  Tonight is the first night that I can remember that I actually didn't have a huge, pressing, additional project on my plate.  It feels so good.

It's hard to remember that just four months ago I was on crutches, and couldn't even take care of Colleen without help.  That three months ago I was in physical therapy and was worried that I would never be able to walk normally again.  That two months ago I was worried that I wouldn't be able to sell my house.  That just one month ago I cried during one of my parent's visits as I started to really think about how hard it would be (literally and emotionally) to move into a new home.  I know that God gave these challenges to me for a reason.  That he knew that I needed to prove to myself that I could handle it. And  I did.  But I am so excited about slowing down and taking a breath.  Going to the pool after work with Colleen - heading out for a run - watching Project Runway - just doing nothing. 

My instinct has always been to rush, to push, on to the next thing.  The next step in my career, the next phase in my life - I know in my heart that I can't push through this.  I need to just....stop.  Stop and be in this moment in my life.  Savor every minute with Colleen.  Get to know myself again.  Figure out what kind of life that God wants us to have.  Figure out who I am.

I was never a grown-up without Chris.  We started dating during my last semester as an undergrad.  He had been out of school for several years, and was already settled - he had a home, a job, and a clear idea of what he wanted his life to be like.  I loved getting plugged into that equation.  We wanted the same things - a simple life, a safe place for our kids to grow up, a life full of our friends and our families - these are all the things that I feel so blessed to have.  But I never had to do it alone.

Being a single parent is hard. You have to be both the friend and the disciplinarian.  You have to do...everything.  There is no putting off chores until someone else does them.  No asking your partner to be the "bad cop" when your child breaks the rules.  No one else to soothe the tears, sing the bedtime songs, make dinner, empty the dishwasher, run to the grocery store at 10 pm because we are out of milk and mac & cheese.  I have been keeping a log of what I call "single Mom moments" - times when I have had to just suck it up and do whatever it takes to fix the problem.  The details are for another post - but the key is that I am learning to do whatever it takes.  That I can do whatever it takes.  I know the lessons will keep coming, but I also know they will get easier.

In the last few weeks, we have all been teaching Colleen about Chris.  For months we didn't really know what to do.  What do you say?  How do you explain?  Now, we tell the truth.  That Dada is in heaven with God.  That his name is Chris Cooper. That he loved basketball and the Aggies (most of the time).  That he was tall.  That he had black hair.  That he danced funny during Hi-5 because it made her laugh.  That he loved Colleen and Momma and all of us so much.  That he called her Wormy, and was more proud of her than anything else in the world.  She has a little script now, where she repeats the thing we have taught her.  She gets a big smile on her face whenever we talk about him  We have pictures of our family all around the new house.  After having them all put away while our old house was on the market, it is wonderful to have them up again.  I keep reminding myself how blessed we are that she won't remember this.  She won't remember the pain - she will just remember the things we teach her.  What a bittersweet blessing.

I know that many of you are praying for us, and I want to you to know much we appreciate and feel your prayers.  My request now is that Colleen and I are blessed with time to rest. Time to rest in this moment until we are ready for what is next.

The song on my repeat these days speaks to my own need to know that God is listening no matter what I am saying.  It's by Amy Grant, and it reminds me that God loves us just as we are.   That he wants our honesty more than anything.  That whatever we are feeling, wherever we are, whatever we do, he is with us through it all. 

With love,

Better Than A Hallelujah

God loves a lullaby
In a mother's tears in the dead of night
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
God loves a drunkards cry,
The soldiers plea not to let him die
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

The woman holding on for life,
The dying man giving up the fight
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes
The tears of shame for what's been done,
The silence when the words won't come
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes.

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody

Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

Better than a church bell ringing,
Better than a choir singing out,singing out.

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

Monday, April 26, 2010

Our time is but a breath, so we better breathe it

God has continued to bless our lives over the last two months.  Physically, I was able to walk without crutches in mid-March, and remove my walking boot two weeks ago.  Wearing two shoes was a strange transition after four months of my “special boot”, and it was precious that Colleen kept saying that “Momma’s leg is allllll better.”  I have an amazing physical therapist who has not only helped heal my body, but also serves as a ray of God’s light in my life.  It is almost hard to remember that just a few months ago I was crawling through my house because it was easier than using my walker, and just one month ago it hurt to walk even short distances without my crutches.   With every pain-free step, I am reminded that God is good.

The last two months have brought big changes in other parts of our lives as well.  I returned to work full-time, and have begun to adjust to the reality of being a single mother.  The first few weeks were hard.  I had to adjust to getting up, getting myself and Colleen ready, and getting to work on time.  While I was off crutches, it still hurt badly to walk, so every task too longer than it normally would.  Colleen was not used to going to school early in the mornings , and had a hard time adjusting to our earlier schedule, and by the time we get home each night, I have household chores and work that keep me busy until late.  I was exhausted, mentally and physically.

 I chose to go back to work during Spring Break, so that I would be able to transition during a slow week.  I walked into my office on my first day and was greeted by an enormous sign on my wall –signed with personal notes from all of my colleagues - welcoming me back.  I stood in the doorway and cried.  I am blessed to work with an amazing community of people that has showed me so much support.  I am overwhelmed by their kindness daily.

 I also hadn’t  thought to prepare myself for how different my workday would be.  Chris and I had a work life was very different than most couples.  Our buildings on campus were literally across the street from each other.  We would ride to work together most days, eat lunch at home together almost every day, and chat sporadically on instant messenger all day.  Whenever something funny, or stressful, or random would happen, we would send a quick note to each other – make each other laugh and get on with our day.  The first few days at work, I had such a hard time remembering that he wasn’t there.   There were so many things that happened during the first few days that I wanted to tell him about – I felt a sense of loneliness that I wasn’t prepared for.  I ended up crying many other times that week.   I would close my office door – take a deep breath – and ask God to help me make it through the next hour.  It was hard, but I did it.  And the second week was easier than the first, and the third easier than the second, and it has continued to get easier as the weeks have gone on.  Now that my leg is feeling so much better, our mornings and evenings are easier.  Colleen and I laugh, we play in the back yard, we watch the movies, we go to the park, we make dinner, we eat ice cream – we do all of the things that make life….beautiful.  Of course, every day we wish that Dada was here with us, but we both know that we are living how he would want us to live – with strength, with hope, with joy, and with love.

This past week, we honored Chris at the Texas A&M campus Muster ceremony.  In all my years of attending Muster, I never imagined myself holding a candle for my husband.  It was a hard, but beautiful day, and one that I am honored to have participated in.  Chris had people all over the world say “here” for him that day.  His life lives on in the memories of those that he loved, and who loved him, and I know how lucky we are to be able to celebrate his life with our Aggie Family.

God also continues to send us messages of hope and love.  We have been blessed the opportunity to buy a new home that is within walking distance of Chris’ wonderful parents – Colleen’s Meme and Poppa.  They have always been an integral part of our daily lives, but their support has been incredible the last few months.   I was not looking to move.  I love our house.  It is the house that we built our family in.  It is our home.  But I have made a commitment to accept the gifts that God sends to me with open arms and an open heart, and he couldn’t have sent a more clear message with the gift of this new home.  I know that Chris would love for us to live so close to his parents - it will be a blessing in all of our lives - and I am so thankful.

Please continue to pray for us as we make this transition.  We continue to feel the power of your prayers in our lives, and continue to be awed by the wonder of God’s love and faithfulness.  I still miss my Chris every day, but each day I am filled with joy at the light in Colleen’s eyes, her beautiful smile, and the peace that God is leading our days.

I will leave you with the song that is touching my heart now.  I am touched by the reminder that “We are not long here.  Our time is but a breath.  So we better breathe it.” and comforted that truly “Hope is coming for me”.
With Love,

Brooke Fraser – CS Lewis Song:

If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy,
I can only conclude that I was not made for here
If the flesh that I fight is at best only light and momentary,
then of course I'll feel nude when to where I'm destined I'm compared

Speak to me in the light of the dawn
Mercy comes with the morning
I will sigh and with all creation groan as I wait for hope to come for me

Am I lost or just found? On the straight or on the roundabout of the wrong way?
Is this a soul that stirs in me, is it breaking free, wanting to come alive?
Cos’ my comfort would prefer for me to be numb
An avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become


For we, we are not long here
Our time is but a breath, so we better breathe it
And I, I was made to live, I was made to love, I was made to know you
Hope is coming for me
Hope, He's coming

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Article in the Seguin Gazette-Enterprise

Thank you to Ron Maloney for his great article in today's Seguin Gazette-Enterprise. Our accident occurred right outside of Seguin, and he has covered our story from the beginning. I am so glad he reached out to me this week, and know that this article will continue to help in our effort to raise awareness of the dangers of distracted driving.

This afternoon Colleen and I were at the park enjoying the amazingly beautiful day.  A woman approached me, and said that she had made her 18 year old son sit down and watch my interview on KBTX, and that she had made him promise not to drive distracted again.  She is just one of the hundreds of people who has stopped me, emailed me, or sent me a Facebook message to let me know how our story has inspired them to put their cell phones down while they are driving.  When I posted my blog last Monday, I would have never expected that our story would touch so many lives - especially those of complete strangers.  But, as I said before, I know that God has a plan for my life, and I feel absolutely confident that this is all part of his plan.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Interview on local news tonight

Today I was interviewed for the Bryan-College Station local news as part of a piece they ran tonight on distracted driving.  Although recounting our story was difficult, God has given me incredible strength this week.  I feel a great sense of purpose when I tell our story as a way to help raise awareness to stop distracted driving.  As I wrote in a previous entry, I have been praying daily for strength, serenity, patience and purpose, and God is faithfully answering my prayers.

The reporter who wrote the story is one of the anchors - Meredith Stancik.  She did a fantastic job, and the result is a moving, compelling story that I know will have a positive impact on our community.  I sincerely appreciate her taking an interest in our family and this issue.  You can click the link below to read the full-text, and watch the video clip that was shown at 10 pm on KBTX.

I thank God for the opportunities He is presenting for our family to help raise awareness of the dangers of distracted driving.   I know that He is using our story to save lives, and to save other families from the pain and loss we have experienced.  As I say in the interview, I miss Chris, more than words could ever express, but I just keep loving him - and I know that he is with us.