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Every Step of the Way:: A Walk America Story
Every Step of the Way:: A Walk America Story
Every Step of the Way:: A Walk America Story
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Every Step of the Way:: A Walk America Story

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Can you imagine walking from California to Florida in just over a year? If you could, what would be the purpose? One reason would be to spend the maximum amount of time possible spreading the word about the work of a non-profit organization called Love Justice International, but at the time it was called Tiny Hands International. It is their business to prevent people from being trafficked, then spreading the Gospel of Jesus Christ with them. This was something that I had to be a part of.

The original idea was to kick in doors where victims of trafficking were being held against their will, fist or gunfight with the bad guys then run out of that place with the rescuee on my shoulders. Lo and behold, that didn’t happen. Raising money by becoming an advocate of human trafficking prevention seemed more appropriate. So how else would you raise money for such a great cause? By attempting a great feat of course. Instead of being in hand to hand combat with the traffickers, there were many nights spent sleeping on the side of the road eating cold food out of a can. Instead of sleeping under a safe roof at night, it was sleeping in the dirt of the wild.

Countless opportunities were made by telling others about Love Justice and the work they were doing. From genuine homeless people generously handing over a single dollar to the wealthy giving hundreds at a time. This is a recollection of everyone who made this journey possible in the attempt to fund the rescue or prevention of 1600 trafficked victims.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherWestBow Press
Release dateFeb 20, 2020
ISBN9781973682479
Every Step of the Way:: A Walk America Story
Author

Chance Stephens

CHANCE STEPHENS is not an award winning writer or the author of a New York Times Best Seller book. He isn’t the founder of a world, nation, state, or even a city-block-wide ministry. During school, he was never the top of his classes nor the best presentation giver, he is just your average guy. In 2006, he joined the United States Air Force as an aircraft mechanic. Over the course of 6 years he lived in Utah, South Korea and The United Kingdom and saw other various places like Southern France and The Azores. In 2013, he voluntarily gave a year of his time for a non-profit that prevents and rescues men and women, boys and girls from being human trafficked by walking across America. He currently lives in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma in his house and often misses sleeping on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere America.

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    Every Step of the Way: - Chance Stephens

    Copyright © 2019 Chance Stephens.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    WestBow Press

    A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.westbowpress.com

    1 (866) 928-1240

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    Scripture marked (KJV) taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

    Scripture quotations are from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

    Scripture quotations marked (NIV) are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.comThe NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

    ISBN: 978-1-9736-8248-6 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-9736-8249-3 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-9736-8247-9 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2019920728

    WestBow Press rev. date: 02/19/2020

    CONTENTS

    Introduction

    December, 1985

    May 1St, 2017

    Step 1: Awareness

    Step 2: Exposure, South Korea, 2009

    Step 3: Remembrance

    Step 4: Utah

    Step 5: The Meeting

    Step 6: The Drawing Board, May 2013

    Step 7: Fly To California, September 2013

    Step 8: Walk America Begins, September 9Th, 2013

    Step 9: Arizona, October 7TH, 2013

    Step 10: New Mexico, November 12, 2013

    Step 11: Texas, December 4, 2013

    Step 12: Back To New Mexico, December 27TH, 2013

    Step 13: Texas (In A Bus)

    Step 14: Back To New Mexico

    Step 15: Back To Texas

    Step 16: Back To New Mexico (Again)

    Step 17: Texas, January 2014

    Step 18: Rest, January 2014

    Step 19: I No Longer Walk Alone, February 13Th, 2014

    Step 20: Louisiana, April 14TH, 2014

    Step 21: Mississippi, May 15TH, 2014

    Step 22: Alabama, May 26Th, 2014

    Step 23: Florida, June 26TH, 2014

    Palm Bay Florida: Rise Worship Event

    Step 24: Oklahoma, August 9TH, 2014

    Step 25: Florida, September 20TH, 2014

    Step 26: Georgia, October 6TH, 2014

    Step 27: It’s Done, October 16TH, 2014

    The Tally

    Reaching My Goal

    Final Thoughts

    The Stats

    Special Thanks

    "Because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless,

    and him that had none to help him." Job 29:12 (KJV)

    There is nothing more precious than Jesus Christ’s life, death and resurrection. For those that hear it, repent of their sins and believe, their sins are forgiven and they inherit eternal life. I believe it and my hope is that others also hear and believe. This is the Gospel.

    INTRODUCTION

    T o the best of my ability, this is a recap of my experience walking across America for Tiny Hands International (THI). I’ve tried to record every detail of this trip worth writing down. It started on September 9, 2013 and lasted until October 16, 2014. I did everything I knew possible to make sure I didn’t lose any information. I carried backup harddrives with photos and wrote a day to day log of everything that happened and everyone that was involved. Fast forward to April of 2017 and I met a man by the name of Robin. I told him that I’d been struggling with finding my purpose.

    Robin told me that I should write this book because it’s part of my story. Two days later, on a Saturday morning, I finished eating breakfast with my brothers in Christ at Beverly’s Family Restaurant off of Northwest Expressway in Oklahoma City. I went back home and took a seat on my couch. I had just been laid off from my job the week prior, but something inside of me was filled with purpose. It was time to write. I’m not one to skip meals, but between breakfast that day and the following Monday morning, I ate four meals total. There were six to eight cups of coffee somewhere in there too. I was on a mission to tell my story; A story about God’s daily provision and the rescue of women from sexual slavery in the process. Thank you, Tiny Hands International, for allowing me to represent you. This was an adventure and my heart craves for another every day.

    DECEMBER, 1985

    S arah hadn’t lived the normal life of every kid. A few months back her parents began to fight often. Things got out of control one night after her mom consumed a lot of alcohol and her father was strung out on meth. The fight was so horrific that the neighbors called the police. When they arrived, things violently got under control. Both of her parents were not capable of taking care of her so Sarah went to live with her mom’s cousin William. He was the closest relative that was able to care for her at the time.

    She was now six years old and lived in the Midwest. She was excited because Christmas was just a few short days away and all she wanted was a new doll that she’d asked William for. On this night, the two of them were driving to a nearby town for a holiday party with some family friends. William’s wife Debby stayed at home because she wasn’t feeling well.

    When Sarah and William arrived, it was just as if the party had just begun. Christmas carols were playing on the record player and the smell of baked holiday goodies were freshly placed on the table. William introduced her to a friend of his that was about the same age as him.

    This is John, why don’t you sit with him? William said.

    John seemed like any normal man to Sarah, but she soon discovered that his friendship with William didn’t seem like other friendships her friends had with their dads friends. While all the guests were there, John wanted to show Sarah his baseball collection. He grabbed her hand and he guided her down the hallway towards the back of the house. Sarah turned around to look over her shoulder. William was sitting on the couch in the living room. He motioned to her that it was ok. They went into his baseball room and he shut the door behind her. Something didn’t seem right. John began to sweet talk, hug and touch her. She began to cry and John told her everything was alright.

    After wiping her eyes dry, he told her not to tell anyone what had just happened. When they both walked out John talked about his baseball collection, pretending like nothing happened. She looked at William and he smiled at her.

    Sarah went to sit with the other children by the Christmas tree but didn’t say anything to anybody. She looked back at the couch. John and William exchanged some words at a low whisper. John took something out of his pocket and gave it to William.

    On the way home, William told Sarah that they’d be attending more parties from now on and that if she kept what would happen at these parties a secret, then nothing would happen to her.

    Can I tell Debby? she asked.

    You cannot tell her; just keep it to yourself, William told her.

    Sarah began to get scared.

    When Christmas morning came around the only thing she could think about was if she got for Christmas what she asked for. As she unwrapped all her presents that morning, none of them were what she expected. Clothes, books and even a small bike. She’d never seen so many gifts in her life, but she hadn’t received what she’d really hoped for. Before she got off the floor, Debby motioned for her to look behind the Christmas tree. As she peeked behind the green branches, there was one more gift well hidden. Sarah pulled it out and tore into the wrapping paper. The doll she’d asked for was inside. She took it out of the box and hugged it so tight.

    A week later there was a New Years Eve party at another friend’s house. This time Debby was there with them. Sarah did everything she could to hold her close that night. William came over and told Debby that he wanted to take her outside to see the lights. Sarah felt afraid.

    It’s alright, you can go with him, Debby said.

    William introduced her to yet another friend and re-lived everything over again, this time in the basement with an entrance from the outside of the house. When the door to the surface was opened, William was handed money from this man and all three of them entered back into the house as if nothing had happened. Sarah couldn’t wait to go home.

    When the party was finally over and she got home to her room, the only one she felt she could trust was her new doll. She lay in bed, squeezed her doll and sobbed for an hour before going back to sleep again. Hugging her doll at night became the norm for several years to come.

    For the next thirteen years, Sarah was going places with William and doing the exact same thing in exchange for money. Sometimes they’d take a trip out of town and visit some of the strangest places. Some of the time, even women would pay to be with Sarah.

    All of this came to an end one night when a man walked into a motel room somewhere in Kansas City, Kansas. A nineteen year old Sarah was waiting in the room. This was the sixth person to visit her room on this evening. The man locked the door behind him then turned around and looked at Sarah. He was dressed in all black with a stocking cap and hadn’t shaved in a while. He walked over to the bed and sat down next to her.

    You don’t have to be afraid. Let’s keep our voices down? the man said.

    Nobody has ever talked to me before, she responded.

    What normally happens when someone comes into a room with you waiting on them? he asked.

    I do whatever I am told, she told him.

    Are you forced to do these things? he asked.

    At first Sarah assumed he was like any normal paying customer, but this man seemed different. She didn’t say anything.

    Alright. If you had an opportunity to get out of this situation, would you do it? he asked.

    Sarah nodded her head ‘yes’ and didn’t say anything.

    That’s all I needed to know. I want you to know that I’m an undercover police officer and that you are safe now. What the people next door have been doing with you is illegal. We’re going to get out of here very soon, the man said.

    He pulled out a radio and clicked the button.

    It’s a go, move on the target, he radioed to someone on the other end.

    A few short moments later, there were a number of flashlights out the windows and shadows peering through the slightly opened window blinds. Sarah looked at the man as he concentrated on the floor, intently listening to what was happening outside.

    BAM! The door next door was kicked in.

    POLICE! NOBODY MOVE!

    The feet of many officers rushed in and apprehended the suspects in the room next door. After a few short moments, red and blue flashing lights appeared from the parking lot below the second floor room they were in.

    Let us in, the radio said.

    The man in the room with Sarah opened the door and several police officers in uniform walked inside, including other normally dressed people. Another woman walked up to Sarah.

    Hello, my name is Sheila, what is your name? he asked.

    My name is Sarah, she nervously said.

    We are here to help. If you would please come with us. I promise not to harm you and that you are safe with us, Sheila assured.

    Sarah walked outside surrounded by a squad of police officers at both doors and in the parking lot to the motel. As she walked by the door next door, she saw William and Debby face down on the floor in handcuffs.

    This story is an account of a young girl’s life that was taken from her that didn’t happen overseas, but right here in America on our own free land. This tragedy, although formulated from multiple stories over years of hearing actual events, didn’t take place. This is an example for you to read and understand that these horrific events have been happening far closer to us that we ever realized. This is human trafficking.

    MAY 1ST, 2017

    Y ou should write your book, it’s part of your story, Robin said.

    I gave up on writing my book after my computer was stolen. Honestly that’s a lot to remember and I don’t think I could portray the story completely like I want to even if I tried. It’s been so long since everything happened.

    I think your memory will serve you better than you realize, he continued.

    Three days later, I got home from work and had nothing planned for the evening. Something inside of me was telling me to attempt my story. I was tired from a hard day’s labor, but honestly I was ready to give it a try. I packed up my brand new, slightly used laptop and drove straight to my favorite coffee shop. I grabbed a latte and the words began to flow. Stories that I never thought could come back to my mind were there as if they’d just occurred yesterday. I was typing at record speeds. No more than a few hours later, I was fourteen pages deep into my story and I knew I’d complete my task at hand this round.

    I hope as you read these words, you feel as if you were there on my adventure with me, talking with others about human trafficking, explaining the crazy situation I was in and seeing God time everything exactly as He had fit for my trip. Praise His name for allowing me to survive my trek, because in the coming pages you will see how dangerously close I was to getting into some real trouble a couple of times.

    STEP 1: AWARENESS

    O ne day in high school, I was given a piece of paper that would shape my heart and my future in ways that I could not foresee. The page was a data sheet full of astronomical figures and statistics specifically regarding the number of people affected by human trafficking all over the world. Human trafficking is the illegal transportation of people from one country to another for the purpose of forced labor or sexual exploitation.

    According to Freedomunited.org, in 2017, approximately 45.8 million people were living in slavery all over the world. Unfortunately, that number is growing rapidly each year. According to dosomething.org, 80% of all slaves in the world are sex slaves. As of July of 2016, Spain had a population of 46.8 million people. Now step back a moment, take out your phone or an atlas if you can find one and take a look at the size of Spain. It’s not one of the largest countries on the planet, but it’s definitely not one of the smallest either. Spain is roughly the same size as Texas yet twice as populated. As if Dallas, Fort Worth, Austin or Houston aren’t busy enough already, now imagine twice the people in those areas being slaves. Yup, every single person times two.

    Human trafficking is the making of a free person into a slave. People are offered a job, lied too, blindfolded, kidnapped, locked away and forced to serve others in unimaginable ways. According to that pamphlet that was handed to me in high school, up to 300,000 sex slaves are brought through the United States each year. That’s nearly the size of Pittsburgh in 2015. Wow!

    If those figures don’t blow your mind, I’m not sure what will. Back in high school I didn’t calculate the figures I just explained, but my heart was pulled to do something. I did not know what to do at the time. My earliest thoughts were pretty heroic. Why wouldn’t I just buy a bunch of guns, get in a van and attempt to take down sex trafficking rings head on? One reason why I didn’t attempt such a feat is because I’m not bulletproof. But if I ever were I know how I’d serve those around me. These were my actual thoughts. It wouldn’t be for many years later that I’d have the thought of human trafficking run through my head again.

    In 2007, I joined the United States Air Force and became an aircraft mechanic. I quickly learned that my heart was not set on staying a military mechanic forever. There were times that I considered staying in for life, but the system just wasn’t designed for an individual to walk in and ask for a special position like I wanted. I was an idea man at the core and wanted to be on the drawing board for special projects. I went as far as asking the base commander at Hill Air Force Base in Utah what it would take for me to work on planes that the public didn’t know about. He gave me a nonchalant answer that ticked me off. Now I realize he probably didn’t know about them either!

    By the second year of my six-year career, I was having a horrible time. I was so ill with my superiors and the way my co-workers treated me. I’d ask for a wrench and get a quiz on why I needed the wrench. Just give me the tool for crying out loud! It was a constant battle of proving myself in ways that didn’t need proving. I met those above me about changing jobs. I had a meeting with a higher up and asked him if I could do anything with human trafficking. Now, I realize how crazy that question was. Jet mechanic with a wrench exchanges for a gun and shoots bad guys? Maybe in the movies.

    Sergeant Bill told me they didn’t have any dedicated positions in that area at the time. I walked away frustrated, feeling defeated. Human trafficking statistics didn’t cross my mind for another year.

    STEP 2: EXPOSURE,

    SOUTH KOREA, 2009

    I was stationed in Korea for eleven months. A normal tour is scheduled for twelve but I didn’t take a mid-tour (thirty days off in the middle of tour) and when the twelfth month showed up on my calendar, I bounced quickly. Korea did have a long lasting effect on my heart though. There are two Air Force bases in South Korea and I was at the worst of the two, Kunsan Air Base. It’s located in the Southwestern part of the country and we were surrounded by farmland. Although I felt like I was in a rural area, I didn’t realize just how desperate some people were for work and the level of slavery that I was surrounded by.

    There is a town near base that’s called, A-Town (America Town) and boy was it dirty. There are numerous bars and a few restaurants within a couple of square blocks of each other and a form of trafficking that I’d never heard about as well. Bars were filled with Philippine women under contract for twelve months at a time and they were forced to work in ways they were not expecting upon arrival. On any given night, a guy could walk in with his buddies and a number of girls in skimpy skirts would show up and match the number of guys at the door, greeting them with smiles. The girls would pair up with the guys and sit next to them at a table.

    When you order a drink for yourself, the club/bar owner would look at you and see if you are willing to pay for the girl’s drink, in return, she would sit with you for five minutes until the owner expected you to pay for another round. If you were not interested, they wouldn’t harass you one bit. Mamma-san and Papa-san were there for one thing, and that was a military man’s money. If you were not there spending it, they didn’t want you taking up bar space. If memory serves me right, the fee for a girl to sit with you was roughly ten dollars. I know this because I experienced it firsthand. I had never been to a bar before and I didn’t know these girls were being trafficked. I overheard some guys on base talking about how the girls in the bars were being held against their will. So the next time I went in I had a purpose: pay the fee and talk with a girl about her situation. So that’s exactly what I did. I went to a bar and a girl walked up to me, sat down and I began to open my wallet every five minutes just so I could talk with her. I wanted to know how she came to Korea, if she was promised good money, and if she was forced to stay there. Her name was Jessica.

    In the Philippines, I was told I’d have a job opportunity in Korea and sing in a club and that it paid well, trafficked Jessica said.

    She didn’t want to talk about if she was being held against her will with me. After a few more visits over the months, I learned there were agencies in the Philippines that would tell girls about job opportunities overseas, promise good money and good work, but the agencies were not entirely honest. Instead of the girls working and going home by themselves or living a free life, they were all held captive by those in charge of the bars, Mamma-san and Papa-san. One girl told me they were even keeping her passport against her will.

    One night, I went back to talk with Jessica. I walked into the same bar where we had initially met but she was not there. I asked one of the other girls where she was and she informed me that Jessica ran away and the bar owners were angry. I wonder what they’d do to me if they knew it was my idea?

    A few months later, I was visiting Osan Air Base walking through the streets just outside base. Osan was completely different from Kunsan because you could walk immediately off base and buy custom clothes and eat a good variety of food. There was a curfew for all military personnel, but you didn’t have to sleep on base if you didn’t want to. There were a number of hotels that guys from base would stay in, just to get a break from the normal base thing. It was a nice change. The hotels would let you pay cash and you would write your name down on a list as you signed in at the front desk. It was funny to use someone else’s name on the list. I remember reading the sign-in sheet one night and I might have been the 7th or 8th James Bond that was in attendance that evening. I was one of the only respectful James Bonds that night I can promise you that. I’d heard stories from military guys that would leave the hotel rooms a wreck that they stayed in. From broken lamps to glass bottles being hurled through T.V.’s, some guys would get away from base and they would act like wild animals for a night.

    My last night there I was walking down the streets of Osan by myself. I was one street over from the normal route that I usually took to and from dinner with the guys. I noticed on my right side a number of doors opened with girls waiting at the doors. My initial thoughts were they were just hanging out, enjoying the evening air, but then I was approached by a young, pregnant girl.

    Would you like a massage?

    No.

    Are you sure? the persistent pregnant girl asked.

    I’m fine.

    As I started to walk away, she grabbed me by the collar and pulled me closer so she could whisper something in my ear.

    Lay with me? the pregnant girl directly asked me.

    Ah! My heart sank within me.

    Proverbs 5:8 (ESV) "Keep your way far from her and do not go near the door of her house".

    Lord alive, help me! I’m already at her front door and now she has her hands on me. I walked away swiftly and didn’t look back. It was on that day when my God allowed my eyes to see the path she walked.

    As Proverbs 7:27 (KJV) says, Her house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers of death. Chambers of death, you say? No thanks!

    STEP 3: REMEMBRANCE

    A s of January 2013, I was no longer active duty. I had served my time in the military and was excited to go home and see what life had to offer me. Growing up, I had always wanted to be an inventor, author, and business owner of some kind. I moved back in with my parents and began the search for a new job. I applied to a few places that I already had a skill set for, but ultimately I didn’t end up getting the work I desired.

    In the Spring of 2013, I was thinking about taking a trip somewhere, just to get away. Utah came to mind since I was stationed in Layton, Utah for two years. Hill Air Force Base (AFB) is located north of Salt Lake City by about forty-five minutes. It’s a beautiful drive from the airport and there’s a huge line of mountains right next to Interstate 15 that continues on into Idaho. Not long after dreaming about my return to Utah, a friend I met in Utah named Samantha messaged me and said, I’m graduating soon! In a few weeks we are having a party at my mom’s house.

    I needed an excuse to show up and the reason she gave me sounded amazing. We worked out the details. I was going to fly in on a Wednesday and stay with her mom and her little brother for a week. Her party was the following Saturday. I was pumped! My friend from church, John Wojo, took me to the airport.

    I’m here to pick you up, he said as he walked through the door.

    Coming!

    My mom looked at me with concern in her eyes and asked why I was going to Utah. Although I did have motives for going, they were only half motives. I didn’t expect anything to happen with my heart while I visited. There was a girl that reached out to me online in 2009 that was in the youth group I was helping lead back in 2007 when I was stationed in Utah. I flew out there two years before just to meet with her because we had been emailing for five years and she said she wanted to see me. I was willing to fly to Utah and meet with her if she was feeling the same. I mean we had emailed off and on for so long, why not go visit?

    On the way to the airport, my friend John Wojo told me about his plans to go to New York City, NY to work for a church. He needed to raise money for the trip. I brainstormed and tried to come up with something I could do for him and told him I would be thinking about it while I was gone.

    STEP 4: UTAH

    W hen I got to Utah, I refused to rent a car because I didn’t want to spend three hundred dollars to drive around for a week. I decided to just walk everywhere to save money. On Thursday as I was walking the coffee shop Starbucks. I took in the view of the beautiful snowy mountain range. I had a vision of myself walking from the south, just beginning to see the Utah mountains on the horizon. As I walked with them, I dreamt of the peaks slowly getting closer and new scenery showing up beyond every horizon. Then the thought crossed my mind, if I could walk across Ogden Utah, then I could walk across America.

    I’m not even joking, that was the jump my thoughts took. From corner to corner, Ogden is less than ten miles in diameter, and on that day I was only walking a max of four miles total. America at the shortest distance is 2,092 miles from East to West. That’s a long way, but I didn’t care. For the remainder of the week, I couldn’t wait to get back home to tell my friend Wojo that I wanted to walk across America to raise money for him to go work with his church in NYC. I knew the idea was bulletproof and that Wojo would love it.

    Once I was at the coffee shop, my parents called me and we talked about how I missed the mountains and I made a post online about being in Utah. Then Utah girl (the girl I emailed for several years since I was in the military) texted me within a few hours of my post.

    You’re in Utah and weren’t going to tell me? she complained.

    Yup.

    I had fallen hard for this girl and I knew for a fact that she at least liked me. We agreed to meet in a grocery store parking lot really close to the house I was staying at. Since I could get there in about twenty minutes by foot, I just walked there. It’s hard not to forget what happened next. I was sitting on a bench outside of the store looking intently for her, wondering if her posts from the internet would tell the truth in person about her beauty, I hadn’t seen her in over four years. When she got out of her car she was wearing a summer dress. Her long, jet black hair softly rested on her shoulders and back as she earnestly looked for me on the other side of the storefront. She instantly took my breath away. I was wearing basketball shorts and a plain white t-shirt.

    When we spotted each other, the air changed. There was so much going on inside of my heart, I don’t know how to explain it, but something was going on. We went to a park and sat in the sun, looked at the ducks in the pond and told each other stories from a few years before. I told her she was very pretty and she grinned. She told me I was also and I didn’t exactly know how to respond.

    After we hung out, I knew things had to change. It was time for a rental car. Three hundred and fifty dollars later, I was on my way to her place of work. She was a waitress at a local place that I visited before. She was shocked when I walked in and gave me the best seat in the house. I ordered something and talked with her twin sister and another friend from church. I was having the time of my life as Utah girl and I exchanged looks from across the room. Her dark brown eyes and her smile could have given light to the darkest places. I was hooked. Later that night when we were walking to my car, I leaned in for a hug like any normal person would do and she suddenly flipped out on me.

    Her attitude went from making me feel wanted to completely rejected. How, you ask? Her body language, the tone of her voice, and the way she treated me immediately changed. In my mind, time stopped and I quickly bounced back and forth to every conversation we had in the past. I was just trying to say goodbye, and she swiftly perceived me as a stranger.

    That night she was getting on my case because I didn’t try to hold her hand from the park earlier. Out of all the things that happened that day, I didn’t think we’d go from falling in love to acting like children for no apparent reason. But in an instant she was done with me and I was completely crushed.

    Wait, crushed doesn’t even begin to cover how devastated my heart was. I knew this girl and talked with her for years, but as soon as we spent some time together, she was done with me?

    When I got to Samantha’s mom’s house, I had a room to myself but it was right across the hallway from her mom. I’ve never wept so hard in my life. Forget that one time my best friend bailed on me when I was only ten because he didn’t want to play with me but someone else down the street. Forget that other time I slipped off a fire escape and broke my ankle at church camp in front of all the girls. Forget the sounds I made when newborn baby Chance was first brought into this world at a hospital in Oklahoma City. I cried that night until I reached what I believed was the end of my heart. The level of exhaustion I experienced from weeping that night left me in a state of great sorrow and my soul longed for love. For over three hours I kept Samantha’s mother up. There’s no way she didn’t hear me. It was around 3:30 a.m. Sunday morning when I was finally able to gather my thoughts. If there was anyone who could understand my heart in that moment, it was the Lord. So I did what I knew best and began to write a letter to Him.

    I am done; I am completely done and have nothing left in me. If I can’t be used by you for the growth of the Kingdom, then take me from this world tonight in my sleep. Give me purpose or bring me home…use my hands…

    In my deepest moment of desperation and broken-heartedness, I didn’t know what else to feel. I was empty. I felt as if I had nothing to offer anybody or anything and that my time would best be spent not living on this earth anymore. I wasn’t going to do anything to harm myself by any means, but I begged God to give me death over my heartache and loss. For the first time in my life, I had truly reached the bottom.

    STEP 5: THE MEETING

    T o my surprise, death did not visit me during the night and I was still alive in the morning. I opened my eyes to a pleasing sunrise over the Utah Mountains. The rays brought me warmth and I felt as if good rest was granted to me during my only three or four hours of sleep; and I was still alive.

    Church was on my mind as I sat up in bed. There was an overwhelming peace all over my heart and soul. I could feel that the peace of God had dominance that reached deep in my bones.

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