The song After the Storm is the last on the Mumford & Sons debut album. It is a song about redemption in a land of darkness. It begins this way:
And after the storm,
I run and run as the rains come
And I look up, I look up,
on my knees and out of luck,
I look up.
That was my posture Tuesday morning. The day prior I was sitting in court, the first hearing in a divorce proceeding where custody arrangements for our 5 children and financial obligations were set. The judge’s ruling on both of those matters was not surprising as most of that had already been pre-determined. What was surprising, however, were the emotions that came with it.
Sitting alone on one side of the courtroom awaiting our turn was the most humiliating and painful experience of my life. Being run out of town for believing against hell felt nothing like the hell my sexual addiction had now presented. In mid-July I wrote about how I really mucked it up this time, but sitting in court Monday made those consequences I wished away or ignored a sobering reality. It was a perfect storm.
And so I found myself Tuesday morning mourning the devastation the storm in my life wrought. I had built a house on sand, seeking shade behind the backlight of a porn-packed laptop which in the end took it all, leaving me scorched and barren. I wanted to die.
And I look up, I look up,
on my knees and out of luck,
I look up.
In the midst of my crying out to God my phone rang. A dear friend from Durham. I almost didn’t answer because of the state I was in but this was a friend with whom I knew I could be vulnerable.
Would that we all have at least one person in our lives like this.
Gareth insisted I come spend some time with he and friends who can sit with me through this storm. This was no time to be alone and, he said, we can walk with you over the hill.
And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall,
And remembered our own land,
What we lived for.
The ensuing 8 hour drive began to lift my spirits. And for the first time in months I began to “remember our own land” and what is worth living for.
Apart from my kids what truly gives me life is when I write and speak. I have tried to make a living through other means since being dismissed as pastor and it has not worked. Particularly now, given the circumstances I find myself in, my present career in sales is untenable.
But if I am to believe what my friends tell me, I am still a pastor. My church is not one of brick and mortar but, ironically, made up of the very stuff that has been my thorn – the internet. I continue to be profoundly blessed and encouraged by the number of notes I receive from people whose own faith or recovery has been helped through my willingness to be vulnerable here, among you all, whom I am happy to call friends.
As I look up from the bottom in which I find myself I am reminded that I still believe in a God who is in the business of resurrection. Out of the pits of hell life springs. Into chaos, God speaks. I believe in the power of the gospel to transform lives, including my own.
And so it is that i am choosing to reinvent myself today. Or, at, the very least, my vocation, and I want to invite you to join me. I would love nothing more than to take your hand as you take mine and together we navigate the complexities of living After the Storm. In the midst of my own brokenness I find myself more aware than ever of the sustaining grace of God. Where weakness abounds, God gets to work (Rom. 5:20).
Another singer/songwriter, Andrew Peterson, paints a beautiful picture with his words in Many Roads:
Could it be that the many roads you took to get here/ Were just for me to tell this story, and for you to hear this song/ And your many hopes, and your many fears/ Were meant to bring you here all along.
So if you’ll trust me with your time I’ll spend it wisely/ I will sing to you with all I have to give/ If you traveled all this way, then I will do my best to play/ My biggest hits (that don’t exist).
Change. I’m making some serious changes in hopes of using my gifts of writing and speaking to sustain me and my family. One of those changes is recognizing that my blog where I share my life with others takes time – time I love to give – but doesn’t pay to even allow me to have internet service at home (thank God for Starbucks). I desire to devote more time to my writing and to this blog and in order to do so I have linked up a PayPal account (see the DONATE button on the top right). If you have been blessed by this space perhaps you will consider making a donation to the ongoing ministry I feel called to provide.
But there is more. Funds permitting I will revamp this website and begin hosting online weekly Bible studies along with recovery resources.
And speaking of recovery, I have exciting plans for launching Recovery Church, not in the way I once thought, but here, online. There are a number of ways I wish to serve and while the means may appear unconventional I sense they can work.
In a world where you have far too many choices of things to read and people to friend, I am so grateful for you. Hearing your stories of pain and triumph as you give me the space to share my own have been a source of great healing, not only to myself but to many others. It’s what church ought to be.
I’ll close the way I began by sharing the last stanza of After the Storm. May it be so.
And there will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.


Well done. Thank God for good friends. You have many, many people who have your back, who are in your corner.
Not sure exactly what to say except that I love you brother and I’m praying for you. I don’t have anything special to offer but I’ll be in Durham this weekend for my high school reunion. It would bless my soul to give you a hug and say a prayer with you so hit me up on facebook or something if you’d like. Your battle is my battle. Thanks for your ministry.
If you’re still around maybe we could grab some lunch or something this weekend… Nathan Arledge lives in Burlington too! I’m praying for you friend.
In the words of a very important mentor in my life, “wow, you’ve got a lot of fucked up shit in your life right now.” I cannot imagine the pain of being separated from my children bro – but thank God that Christ is present even and especially in the midst of infernal places of separation with “fucked up” graffitied all over their walls. We’ll continue to pray for you, and with all the chaos around you, look forward to what God creates out of it. Grace, peace, love.
Pushing the reset button is always challenging. On my phone, when I press reset, I am fearful that the pictures will be lost, the settings returned to default…if my email will still be there. Then there’s all the past contacts…will they download again. Will something get skipped in a backup. With hesitancy I find a pin and slide it into the pin-whole as I close my eyes.
Sitting in a courtroom is the crash. The culmination of both good and bad. The loss so clear at that moment. Reset doesn’t happen in the courtroom. It doesn’t even happen after court at the deli. It certainly doesn’t happen on the drive home or at coffee with a caring friend. It is no longer that easy.
Reset becomes increasingly difficult as we get older. In a way, pushing reset seems like an option…not a mandatory step, as we get older. I was once told that we rule our life by our will in our 20′s, our wit in our 30′s, and (hopefully) our wisdom in our 40′s. Pushing reset comes from Wisdom, not wit or will.
The battle over pleasure will be lifelong…for all of us. It is so easy to make this place, this life experience, our marriages, our relationships “all about us”. I kind of see that the older I get the more it becomes about me. It’s like I have become the ruler of my own earth…king, in effect.
But here’s the deal. The price of pleasure is too much. The loss too great. I am sick of the temporary! I am disgusted by all the stuff we keep in the air that is meaningless, temporary and “all about us”.
I could spend the remainder of my life seeking first my pleasure…but John 3:30 rings in my ear saying “make me less, make him more”. And…this…is my prayer for you …and I.
jc
I am immensely thankful for your writings and proud of your courage. God will bless your work.
Thanks Chad. Sending you lots of love. I appreciate you and your openness.
Chad, such powerful lyrics to inspire hope that “there will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears.” Hope you are able to soak in grace and forgiveness.You are not defined by your weaknesses. They are a real part of you but you are greater than your weaknesses. Praying for God to bring beauty in the midst of ashes.
thank you for sharing this. hard to know what’s over the hill sometimes . . .well, always. I want that last stanza to be true for us all.
Love will find a way. Blessings and peace to you as you recreate . . . as you are created anew . . . in wholeness and healing. in love and joy and peace. I pray for a clear way for funds to flow, so you may do what you are meant to do.
Chad, You have been a blessing in my journey. I will continue to pray for you and the kids. May the peace of the Spirit be yours friend.
My young brother, you said a mouthful above. This very venue is your thorn; your very strengths are the weakness upon which the deceiver preys. True Recovery Church means you abandon those things that have served to propel you downhill, seeking to truly recover by finding inspiration not in M&S lyrics, but rather in the strict commands of God, none of which permit continuation where destruction is found. Adam and Eve were cast from the garden where not only was everything was perfect, but everything was available, even temptation. ”Recovery Church” will provide worldly means, but spiritual means are found in prayerful discernment of the Word of God. To lead, as you wish to do, a successful church, you must first obediently follow the one to whom the true church belongs. Nurturing, nay, exploiting ones weakness and fall to one’s gain does not bring recovery. Seek the presence of those who will not condone your sin, but out of love, will help you defeat it holding you accountable and perhaps “shaking the dust from their feet” if you wish not to be helped. Children have birthdays that pass, hurts that heal, doubts that need assurance, none of which you should neglect. Wives need husbands that are true – integrity cannot be overstated. This to you from a fellow sinner…
I’m so thankful that you have IRL friends who can help you through this season. That matter so much more than we’re willing to admit sometimes.
Be blessed and know that you’re being lifted in prayer.
Ugh. What an awful thing for you and your family to go through…
Thanks for the courage to share and I hope that you and your family can find your way through the storm.
Chad, your bravery is inspiring. So many hide in the dark and never speak about their painful addictions. I believe that openness brings freedom. I hope so. I am trying to follow this hope and see where it brings me. Thank you for sharing your journey and being willing to provide a forum for others to join together in recovery. All my love to you and your family as you go through this.
Blogs like this scare me. I believe in God…passionately. I also believe in the failure of man. If you feel called to donate to a ministry please do so at your local church and not online where you really DO NOT know what actions your money is supporting. Religion and the good hearts of Christians are being exploited all over the internet by excellent writers with a gift of manipulation. Please, share the gospel, give of your hearts, and support the men of faith that you know personally. Thank you.
Blogs like this scare me. I believe in God…passionately. I also
believe in the failure of man. If you feel called to donate to a
ministry please do so at your local church and not online where you
really DO NOT know what actions your money is supporting. Religion and
the good hearts of Christians are being exploited all over the internet
by excellent writers with a gift of manipulation. Please, share the
gospel, give of your hearts, and support the men of faith that you know
personally. Thank you.
Thank you again for your ongoing vulnerability. I walk my own path of broken glass at times, and while I often share bits of my pain with the folks near me, some simply don’t know how to hear the dark and painful without quick platitudes and band-aid words. Every once in a while, there is the soul who hears the pain and is touched by the words I’ve shared, and feels more free to share their own selves, too. Your more uncurtained window policy gives folks like me the courage to do the same in our own lives.
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