|  Mark Edward  |

:: The Perfect Storm ::
October 2019

It may come as a shock to some, but Jamie and I were separated during much of 2018.  

As it began to unfold, we shared our separation with only a handful of close confidants.

While most would not be as transparent with their private lives as we are about to be, Jamie and I have mutually decided to share openly – the pain and the joy of this part of our journey. 

And the events that brought us to it.

Davis Islands – Tampa Bay

As Leaders, Our Lives are Public

Although we have not served “full time” since 2010, some still call us “Pastor Mark” or “Pastor Jamie.” 

We keep saying, “You don’t have to do that,” – but it’s difficult for those you’ve served to change habits I guess.

We’ve worked on six ministry staffs since 1979.  On the West Coast, myself in roles as Executive Pastor and Chief of Staff – Jamie as Children’s Minister.

Jamie – Academy Staff / Children’s Minister 2002
Sierra and Mark

Easter Production 2001

In the Midwest, I had the honor of playing Keys for 12,000 people weekly at one of the largest Assemblies in the country.

Jamie managed multiple Starbucks on the campuses as part of the Executive Team.

(I’m the keyboard player in the dark)

For the past 36 years, I’ve intentionally mentored over 225 young men around the world – and thousands indirectly as described on the website you are currently viewing.

In 2019, I’d Rather Talk™ was read by men in 54 countries.

These Guys are Like my Sons

 

Jamie With Some of the Staff Members
with Whom We Served
Palm Springs, 2005

So.

Whether we like it or not, our lives have not been private.

We’ve been most effective in our leadership and mentoring when we’ve striven for authenticity.

Now that a full year has passed since our restoration, we’re choosing to be more vulnerable and share this part of our journey.

For three reasons:

1. To set the record straight and dispel any rumors.
2. To bring definitive closure for ourselves and our family.
3. To help others who may face pain in their marriage at some point.

And if we’re all honest —  who hasn’t.

The Perfect Storm

A perfect storm is an event in which a rare combination of circumstances drastically aggravates the event.

Our separation wasn’t about a flawed marriage.

It was about a Perfect Storm that beat against our souls.  The storm never stopped.

Or maybe it did stop.  Like a hurricane can suddenly seem to stop. And flood your life.

So —  in a Series of Mini Chapters – here’s how The Perfect Storm rolled in…

The young maidens of The House of Estrogen on BrookeLynnLane were 15, 13, and 11.

We thought we would finish raising our girls in the beautiful Ozarks.

Yet, as most daughters would, Jamie had the desire to move to GA to help care for her mother.  We resigned our positions and temporarily resided with Jamie’s parents, for the purpose of helping care for Judy.

Although we would still do it again, at best, it was a difficult situation.

In the final 6 weeks of Judy’s life, Jamie cared for her mom 24/7 — every 2 hours — while our kids tried to sleep 15 feet away in the dining room.

Judy, Victoria, and Jamie
November 11, 2010 – Victoria’s 18th BD

The night of the above photo, I remember Judy walking slowly with intense pain and audible moaning.

This was the last night Judy ever left her house.  Nine weeks later she died.

When People Hurt, People Blame

It is typical for those remaining to look for someone to blame.

Megan Devine, a grief therapist and author, states,

“Most grieving people feel judged and shamed inside their pain.

Especially when the loss is unusual or accidental, the backlash of blame is intense.

We immediately point out what (we think) someone else did wrong.”

Brené Brown’s research states that blame is a way to discharge pain and discomfort.

I observed this while I served in pastoral roles.  However — this time — the blame was much closer to home.

It weighed extremely heavy on us when someone verbalized that —  had Jamie cared for Judy “more faithfully” — she may have lived longer.

One person said harshly that maybe Jamie “wasn’t there” as much as she “should have been.”

Sierra’s 13th BD
June 15, 2010 – Warner Robins, GA

For the Record

With time, we resolved the internal backlash over those thoughtless comments. And we’ve forgiven.

People say things out of fear and pain.

Things they regret later.

Yet, I am here today to set the record straight:

Jamie rarely left her Mother.

During the final weeks of Judy’s life, the owner of a local Georgia horse ranch took Jamie under her wing.

She offered Jamie comfort, words of kindness, and friendship.  With no judgment.  No strings attached.

Charlene didn’t consider herself to be a church goer or even a very godly person.  Yet, she demonstrated an enormous amount of unconditional love.

Jamie and Ranch Owner, Charlene
following a Horse Show Event
After Judy’s Death

When Jamie did drive out to the ranch to get her emotions together,  her dad or other adult family members were present with Judy.

Judy was never alone.

I feel sorry for the person who wrote a nasty letter to me after Judy’s death.

The letter accused us of “mooching” off of Jamie’s parents during Judy’s illness.

On the contrary.

While others maintained their homes and careers, Jamie gave up an executive position and the comforts of her home in The Ozarks.

She left her belongings in storage and moved 800 miles to be there for her mother.

Our Home In Ozark

I left James River and T-Mobile and began a new career – at a lower pay grade – at The Lizard.

Mom and Dad seemed happy to have our friendship and care.

I can’t even begin to describe what my children gave up to support their grandparents emotionally.

For the record, I never read the letter.  I am not interested in people’s blame games.

But man, did my wife’s Oklahoma blood boil when she read it LOL.

Thanksgiving 2010
Two months Before Judy Died

 

People Who Feel Guilty Project Their Guilt.

This is my Domain.

I pay for the space.  I can write what I feel led to here.

I’m not writing to hurt anyone who spoke hurtful words during a time of incredible pain.

But I am here to shine light on the truth.  And, as the head of my family, release my family from false and manipulative words.

Once and for all.

Christmas Day, 2010
Five Weeks Later, Judy Passed

Today, I give my wife permission to experience closure:

Babe, I am deeply sorry some tried to place unmerited guilt on you, the Caregiver.

I know it affected your mind, emotions, and your body.

I watched you forgive. And get kicked again.  And forgive again.

But forgiveness does not equal trust.

And you finally moved on.

I’m so proud of you for it.  

I publicly release you from this unbearable guilt today.

 

The View from My Private Journal – January 29, 2011

Here’s a peak into my soul – written hours before Judy died.

 

 

(Gentlemen – why is it you’re not journaling again?)

The Lincoln

The night of Judy’s death, Jamie and I were there with her father when Judy gasped for her final breath.

It was Jamie, Victoria, Kasey, Sierra and I, who were there when the Lincoln hearse came – instead of the Cadillac – you’ve heard me talk about how Judy would have preferred a Cadillac! 😁  So sorry mom!

The Unique and Beautiful Kasey Lynn

 

The Wise and Lovely Victoria Brooke
The Beautiful and Strong Sierra Lane

That night, Victoria, 18, at 1:00 a.m.,  proclaimed with red-head confidence,

My mom has done enough.

Victoria took charge and proceeded to bravely clean up blood and oozing-cancer-death from the borrowed hospital bed.

She helped her grandfather move the no longer needed medical supplies from the bedroom to the garage.

I can’t imagine Jamie’s Dad’s pain after losing his wife of 53 years.

I can’t imagine the pain Jamie’s siblings felt. Or our nieces and nephews felt.

Going Through Some of Mom’s Belongings
with Jamie’s Brother, Dad, and Sierra

I wrote in my journal that the stench of death had already been present in the room for about 10 days prior to her passing.

Every moment in that room was beyond words.

I’m not sure how my father-in-law did it, except for Love.

The Day of Judy’s Memorial Service
Wednesday, February 2, 2011

To my lovely daughters of The House of Estrogen on BrookeLynn Lane:

Thank you for willingly leaving James River and your amazing schools in Ozark behind, to be there for your grandmother and grandfather.

When I’ve second guessed the move, you’ve each told me you’d do it again for them.  You don’t regret moving.  It shows me what kind of women you are.

I am dreadfully sorry you had to witness this death.

I am so proud of each of you also.

I publicly release you today of unjust actions and words spoken against you after this death.

November 3, 2011
Summer Hill Place

Faith and Grieving

Following Judy’s death in January of 2011, the fabric of life disintegrated.

The brutality of her mother’s early departure exacted a toll on Jamie, on our children, and other family members.

If you’ve lost a loved one to cancer – or – you’ve ever been the caregiver for someone who is slowly dying, you “get it.”

Stone Mountain, GA

Sometimes I could still hear the gurgling sound of Judy gasping for breath in her last hours.  It took a few years to stop “hearing that” in my head.

Our income was 50% less than it had been.  All 5 of us struggled to concentrate and focus.

To add to the pain, certain church leaders said our post-death numbness was a “faith issue.”

“Without faith it’s impossible to please God.” 

So. Because of our faith issue, we must not be pleasing God, right?

During a time of intense grieving, a ministry couple showed up at our house one morning to tell us we “were not in faith.” 

To grieve is to show weakness.

To show sadness is to show defeat. 

To show defeat scares The Anointing away.

My Kid’s Humor

A word of wisdom to my readers:

When you are shamed for grieving – you are in a cult.

When only victory and the joy of the Lord are permitted – you are in a cult.

Has anyone read The Psalms?  Studied the grief and pain of Jesus?

Of Paul?

Paul sat chained and in his own dung, while writing 28% of the New Testament.  That doesn’t seem too victorious.  Where was Paul’s faith?

#warpedtheology

When we acknowledged that it was time for us to seek a different and more balanced place to fellowship, one of the leaders said,

“The blood of our people will be upon your hands.”

Another minister said,

“You can’t say ‘good bye’ or have any contact with the church people.  If anyone has questions, there is only one person to ask – and that is me”

The House of Estrogen with my Handsome Father-in-Law
A few weeks before Judy’s Death

When we met to return property that belonged to the church, we weren’t allowed inside.

We were not the first family to depart that month, so I’m sure their feelings were on edge.

It felt like we had a disease.

The most interesting comment came from one of the pastors:

You’ll never find another church like ours.

And.  We haven’t.

#elitism is a dressed up form of pride.

My Parents
58 Years of Service

I remember how hurtful those manipulative words were to Jamie and my kids.

I contacted my Dad, Mom, and a mentor, Dr. Warren Heckman for advice.

My mom, who has served in ministry 58 years, said, “Son, if I were you, I’d make that change now!” 

 

My brother Micah  
A generation apart

My brother, in ministry for 20 years said, “Their response shows you that you are making the right decision.”

Warren Leslie Heckman
A Mentor to my Family Since 2003.

Dr. Warren advised:

“The best thing to do is write a letter of appreciation for time spent there, and move on.

 

Remember Paul and Silas.”

My Dad

And — my dad’s advice — said in only the way a Kansas preacher could say it:

Son!   Draw the Curtain.

Flush the toilet.

Shake the Dust.  Move on.

Don’t Look Back.

Shout and Dance a jig!

I love you!

And so we did.

We actually shook the dirt from our feet.

---

A Blinding Eclipse

I want to “Side Journey” for a minute and clarify that, while our experiences at more than one church were manipulative and toxic, we have shared many life changing experiences at other wholesome churches.

Just like there are healthy doctors –  and quack doctors, there are healthy churches, and  – well – quack churches.

Six-Thirty A.M. Rehearsal in Ozark
We Enjoyed a Healthy Working
and Serving Experience Here 

Stepping onto the Platform to Play Keys
For 3rd Service in Ozark

When we seek power, dictatorial control, prestige, admiration, personal wealth, or Instagram Glamour –  under the cloak of ministry –  we are setting ourselves up to hurt others.

Not heal.  Hurt.

We become a Ringmaster where everyone in the circus must jump through our hoops.

Our “Ford Loving” Life Group
Washing the Honda for Us One Sunday

Sometimes it’s so subtle, we don’t see it.

Or we want to believe the best, so we look the other way.

If we veer off course just 5 degrees a year, in 10 years — we’ll be off 50 degrees.

When we stray from preaching the gospel as our primary reason for opening the church doors — and —  the non-programmed, non-micromanaged fellowship of believers, as our secondary reason — our church becomes a Blinding Eclipse.

Instead of a Rescuing Beacon.

It hurts to look at an Eclipse.

And if we look too long, our ability to see clearly is lost.  Harm is done.

“Side Journey” Completed.

 

Christmas 2004
Palm Springs, California
I Miss That Team

---

 

But The Storm Didn’t Stop. 

It Intensified.

One Maiden Was Grasping for Control

In the months following Judy’s death, Sierra, our youngest, began a 6 year recovery journey to conquer Anorexia Nervosa.

Eating disorders aren’t about food.

They are about wanting to gain control of life. A life that —  as a 14 year old — felt out of control.

After changing churches, she wrote:

When Sierra learned of the harsh words spoken over her parents, she curled up in a ball and cried.  It pained my dad heart.

No.  We didn’t tell her.  She accidentally found a record of conversations while doing some filing for me.

By June of 2012, Sierra dropped to 88 pounds.

Over the subsequent 6 years, that beautiful and smart teenager treated at over 30 hospitals across the United States.

Along with multiple comorbidities, two top specialists stated that she had the most challenging case of Anorexia in the state of Georgia.

She was hospitalized 762 days total.

Diagnosis Day
November 4, 2011

By 2017, I had over 100 of these badges.
Security knew us by name.
We didn’t even show our ID.
Now, they are my badges of honor.
Symbols of progress.
We didn’t give up.

Treatment in Tallahassee
Four Hour Drives for 2 Hour Visits
Always Worth it to Hold Your Child

The Lizard

While I initially dreaded working for The Lizard, as the second largest auto insurer in the U.S. and the largest in Florida, they offered some of the top health benefits available anywhere.

God knew we would need benefits.

Our health insurer negotiated over $4 million of billed cost during Sierra’s recovery.

Cor Captis Band and guys in my Circle raised support to bring stability to our home life.

Many of you gave privately – and generously – during our critical time of need for food, gas, and to help us avoid eviction.

Trip to Atlanta for Therapy
2015

You Stood With Us.

We’ll never forget it.

Not counting flights, we drove 62,000 miles for treatment.

Professional wisdom that helped save her life.

We would not have made it without you.

Back Home after the First Hospitalization
February 2012
28 other Long Term Hospitalizations Would Follow

 

Sierra was near death twice.

She was kept alive via feeding tube for weeks at a time.

She made multiple attempts on her own life.

In the final year of recovery, some behaviors became factitious and histrionic.  This is common for teens in recovery from a long illness.

After she turned 18, we stopped posting publicly to respect her privacy.

As an adult woman, she has since posted publicly about her challenges and her victories.

I received her permission to share here as well.

February 2012
After The First Hospitalization
Her Sister Decorated the Refrigerator

Dad I Want to Live

Fast Forward 6 years.

In October 2017, after 29 Long Term Hospitalizations, 44 trips to the ER, 21 Self Harm Events, and the onset of Bi -Polar disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder – something changed in this beautiful young woman’s soul.

In Phoenix, Sierra found the courage to begin making adjustments, with the help of an amazing young man – who is now her husband, and our son.

Waiting on Treatment in Atlanta
We made 150 trips to The Big Peach

She spoke up.

She began to forgive.  Others.  Herself.

She let go.

She conquered.

She took back control.

She overcame.

She survived.

 

Dad, the best thing you ever did was tell me I couldn’t return home.

 

Putting me on a plane to Phoenix saved my life. 

 

I would have died in Tampa.

– Sierra Lane

I have not seen Sierra since I put her on that plane June 4, 2017.

Now she is a wife and mother of two.

I can’t wait to hug her neck again.  Hug my second son.  And kiss my grand babies.

* Author’s Update:  We had the wonderful experience of being with Sierra, her husband, and our grandbabies as of February 2020.  Indescribable joy to be reunited and meet our son (in-law) and grandbabies.

I’m going to set another record straight today – this time for you, Sierra:

Death, manipulative behaviors, thoughtless judgmental words, actions, and warped theology compounded your despair as an impressionable teenager. 

I publicly release you from the pain, guilt, and perceived shame of mental health illness. 

It’s no different than the illness of a broken leg or a heart attack.  

You didn’t ask for it.  Some of it was even hereditary.

I want to tell the world we are proud of you and the difficult steps you have taken toward wholeness.

---

Restroom Break.  Refresh Your Latte.

---

Cancer.  Again.

During the most difficult season of Sierra’s Recovery, another one of our daughters, Kasey, was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.

It was mind-boggling-scary for her as a 22 year old.

Kasey was afraid that our pain had already been so great, she initially chose not to disclose her condition and treatments to us. And didn’t for several months.

Those middle children!

Friend Jennifer, Kasey, Mark, Sierra

Recently, I asked her how overcoming cancer at 22 felt:

Honestly Dad, I just wanted to give up.  I felt like I was too weak to do anything.

 

At first, I didn’t tell anyone about the cancer because I didn’t want anyone to have to support me.  It seemed hopeless.

 

My best friend begged me to get treatment which is the only reason why I did,  Once I started treating, I realized I didn’t want to die.

 

-Kasey Lynn

Definitely another Independent Oklahoma Woman, right there!

Now, Kasey is cancer free in 2019.

Seaplane Basin Park – Davis Islands

 

I am deeply proud of you, Kasey. 

After watching your grandmother suffer from cancer, you survived another harrowing experience. 

You didn’t give up. 

I hate it that you are:  Often harassed publicly for being gay.  You’ve been jeered at and called unspeakable names.

That extended family stopped sending you cards and calling you on your birthday after you came out. 

(That is conditional love, not unconditional love)

That rocks have been thrown at your spouse (John 8:7).

That you’ve been told you couldn’t enter a family member’s home for a meal.

What evangelical church welcomes you on the second row with your beautiful tattoos and nose jewelry? 

Not many. 

You don’t meet their approval. 

You don’t check off the boxes on the requirements-to-worship-with-us checklist.

You don’t fit neatly inside the little square.

Neither did the disciples.

I’ve always loved that about you.

Arrowhead Lake, California

Today, beautiful young woman, I express my love for you as your dad.

I am so glad we are friends. 

I publicly release you of any perceived shame and incredible fear of having cancer at 22. 

I release you from the effects of toxic words and actions some displayed toward you during your journey as a young woman.

Victoria, Brenna, Pablo, and Kasey

---

Still. 

The Storm did not relent.   

It continued to churn.

---

A First Grandchild is Lost

Same time frame.

Yet another daughter – Victoria – suffered a miscarriage.

After the loss of “Ryan,” Victoria struggled in what seemed like a dark tunnel.

Trying to find hope and new direction, the days seemed like a dizzying blur for her.

Looking back, Victoria recently shared with me:

Dad, It felt like my body failed my baby. At first, I was taking the blame.

 

Now, it’s ok.  I wasn’t healthy and I was so underweight. At the time I wasn’t eating right.

 

After the miscarriage, I also tested as a high risk for ovarian cancer (like Kasey).

 

That was 3 years ago.  Today, I am much healthier and happier.

 

– Victoria Brooke

I am indeed proud of you, Tori.   You persevered.   

American culture falsely told you – you had a “slow start.”

I disagree.  Not everyone goes to college.  Some go and regret it.  

Now, at 27, I have watched you take many positive steps as a young adult. 

Every time I see you my day is brightened. 

My heart leaps. 

They Conquered

I write this with much grateful emotion:

Every daughter conquered.

Every daughter survived.

Every daughter is now safe, and on a healthy path.

Two are happily married.

One birthed our grand daughter in September of 2018 – and our grandson in July 2019.

Sierra and Zachary

No One Is To Blame

No single experience written about here “caused” our separation.

Our pain was not their fault.  Life happens.

Every family has challenges.

We’ve never considered ourselves “victims” – even during the darkest moments.

The Riverwalk – Tampa 

No Time to Grieve

So, here’s where I’m headed in sharing this much detail:

Jamie – both a daughter and mother in these severe events – despite her tough Oklahoma skin – found her own internal pain and unresolved grief snowballing between 2011 and 2018.

Like an Avalanche.

Or a Tsunami.

The more she swam, it felt like her Mother’s Heart – though full of love – just couldn’t stay ahead of the waves.

Clearwater Beach – 2016

She couldn’t run from it.

The waves just kept coming.

After mom’s death in 2011, it felt like someone was punching me in the stomach as hard as they could.

 

I still felt the same punching in 2018.

 

It never stopped.

 

I became numb just to survive.

 

– Jamie Lynn

2012

Jamie didn’t have the opportunity to grieve over the death of her mother — before facing other life shaking events that followed.

Jamie has always been an extraordinarily independent woman.  That’s how they grow them in Oklahoma.

It’s a trait that I admire, and one of the reasons why I chose her as my wife. She didn’t “need” me.

She would strengthen my life.

Indeed she has.

Sierra’s 19th BD – 2016

And still does.

Yet toward the end of 2016, I realized Jamie was struggling to make it emotionally.

She was “checking out.”

Honestly, I was too.

So What About You, Mark?

I’m not a man of lingering anger, but I felt significant anger during 2016 through 2018.

I was mad that each of my children and my wife suffered so greatly.

I was angry that after serving ministries for 30 years, some ministries (not all) got weird in regards to mental health.

Judgmental toward our pain.  Our weakness.  Our losses.

You’re not going to church enough!

I heard these words.

More than once.

From more than one person.

Overwhelmed, there were days we could barely move. Or turn off our Parental Minds.

So we rested.

Imagine.  Resting on The Day of Rest.

To be candid, some brothers and sisters in the church lobby became “booked up” and “busy” when we were vulnerable and (tried to be) real about life.

“You have a child who tried to take her life?  Uh – More than once?

Sorry your other child miscarried.  She wasn’t married?  Um – Oh — OK.

So –  one of your children is gay?   Wait.

Where’s your wife?  You’re separated?”

 

Well, nice talking with you. Take care.

 

Let us know if you need something!

 

(Wanders away with Instagram smile…)

 

Valentines Day 2016

Thank You, Mr. Cooke

Thirty years ago, one of the best teachings we learned from Rev. Tony Cooke is what never to say to a grieving person,

Let us know if you need anything.

Instead say:

I’m stopping by Friday night just to be there. We don’t even have to talk. I’m bringing chicken.

We belong to The Healer of pain.

Yet — sometimes we run to the nearest Exit Door when someone exposes their real pain.

We insulate ourselves from what – or who –  is different than us.

We run from what we don’t understand.

Sometimes, we judge those who remind us of our own weaknesses.

With spiritual pride we proclaim,

Oh – I don’t judge. I love the sinner.  Just not their sin.

But in reality we judge by our actions.

Or lack there of.

We judge with our silence.

I’m thinking of Romans 3:23.  First Timothy 1:15.

Thanksgiving 2016

Weirdness Gone Wild

While I’m being candid, a handful of people showed their spiritually creepy side during that season.

Actual Quotes:

Sierra, all you need is Jesus!  You don’t need any treatment! 

Gonna stop right here and thank Pastor Kenneth W. Hagin whose quote – after 30 years – still rings in my head,

The Natural and The Super Natural Coming Together Make an Explosive Force for God.

That word, sir, got me through.

That word kept me in the balance between faith and medical treatment.

Sierra Loves Ballet

During the darkest time of recovery, someone said to Sierra,

“You can’t stay with us – unless you go off those meds, don’t see any more doctors, and go to every service we have.”

This same “spirit filled” person praised and complimented Jamie for wanting to separate in 2018.

1991 || 2016

Actual Quote:

You should leave him! We’ve been waiting for this.  Now you can be free of him – he’s so controlling!!

I’m not sure who the “we’ve” is.

It’s ironic.  That person is one of the most manipulative individuals we know.

In the Psych world, this behavior is known as Projection.

“I don’t like my own behavior, so I’m going to (try to) project blame on you for my own feelings.”

(That is Sierra Under That Hat.
She Has Always Loved Fashion.)

Despite their actions, God loves that person.

I love them too.  But you can love from a distance as they say.

People have often been jealous of our happy marriage, success in ministry, and the seasons we had larger homes, drove new cars, and had facebook perfect children.

Except we didn’t LOL.  Nor were we.

I suppose it is possible to perceive my confidence as a first born, my creativity as a musician and writer, and my fierce determination to lead my family through tumultuous times – as “controlling.”

But that “we’ve been waiting for this!” line —

Seriously?  It was so divisive.

Tampa – 2016

What Love is. And is Not.

Love is not weak.

Love defends.

Love speaks up.

Love is not passive.

Love is not always quiet.

Love sets boundaries.

Sometimes love says, “NO!”   “You’re not going to treat me like this anymore.”

Love is why I am typing this today.

Can the World Show Love?

During The Perfect Storm, many secular friends and work associates exhibited no-strings-attached love, kindness, understanding, and support.

My secular employer didn’t complain when I took 150 unpaid days to be at the side of one of our children.  And another 145 paid vacation days.

I am thankful I could do it.

It was my honor to stand with you, lovely Sierra.   I would do it again for any of my children, and even my “sons” that I didn’t raise.

It was a relatively nonspiritual work mate who gave me a book on processing grief.

It brought extraordinary insight and healing to my own broken soul.

Drifting to the Bottom of the Pool

In October of 2016, Jamie took 3 full weeks off for complete rest at a friend’s Condo in Cocoa Beach.

It was a start, but it wasn’t enough.

Jamie began to experience difficult symptoms in her own body, and had to stop working due to the intensity of her symptoms.

At the time, we didn’t know it, but the symptoms were the onset of White Matter Disease and LEMS – Lambert-Eaton Myasthenic Syndrome.

I married Walking Optimism.

But by Christmas 2017 it felt as though my lovely bride had all but disappeared.

She seemed like an empty shell.

Rapidly retreating.

I’m Separating From You

In Feb 2018, Jamie abruptly announced that she needed space.

She asked to separate from me.

Like most males or at least “creative” males like myself, I was painfully dumbfounded.

Beyond words.  I couldn’t sleep.

My own internal pain level escalated.

As Jamie would tell you now, it wasn’t about me.

It wasn’t about us.

It was about exhaustion.

Emotional drowning.

I wrote in my journal that she stoically said,

“I have nothing left to give you.”

“I’m a 0.1 on a scale of 1 to 10.”

“I’m at the bottom of the pool.”

I’ll Breathe For You

With masculine fervor, I declared I would “swim to the bottom of the pool” and breathe for her.

Without blinking, she said – and to my dismay,  “I don’t want that.”

She had zero emotion.

The Oklahoma fighter had lost her fight.

Tears.

---

Take Another Latte Break – Or Bathroom Break.

Or Finish This Up Tomorrow.

---

Seaplane Basin Park

Men are often Fixers

Fixing was exactly what she didn’t want.

I struggled with the “reasons” as to why she needed space.

She gave some “reasons,” but they didn’t seem real.

She told me months later – during our counseling — that she gave “empty reasons” in the hope that I would stop asking.

Stop trying to fix her.

She wanted to – and needed to – figure life out on her own.

She didn’t want me to swoop in and try to fix her Independent Oklahoma Soul.

Even though it’s not true of course, she felt for a season as if God had forsaken her.

Cool Story:

Ask Jamie how God demonstrated His love for her in a tangible and personal way, when her treasured dog, Penny, was lost – but found her way home on a stormy night.

Dave and Sharon
Friends Whose Daughter
Also Survived Anorexia
Methodists and Pentecostals
Can Be Close Friends.

LEMS

One of the reasons Jamie asked to separate, was that she had received a shocking diagnosis of her own – White Matter Disease and Lambert-Eaton Myasthenic Disorder (LEMS).

LEMS is not terminal.

It does profoundly change one’s lifestyle, balance, speech, and muscular control as antibodies incorrectly attack nerves to muscles.

You might see Jamie using a walker.

At a still-young 58, this has been a huge adjustment for her.

Physical therapy is helping.

2017

You’ll Lose Me

Jamie has always been direct. She likes it simple.

I wrote her words in my Journal:

If I don’t have space to figure out life – and figure out who I am after this much pain – You’ll lose me.  I’ll die.

She meant it.

I don’t have words for how hard it was to hear this.

On Monday, Aprll 30, 2018, I agreed to give Jamie the space she requested.

 

June 2017

It didn’t seem real.  We just went through the motions.

Numb.

Speechless.

On June 2, 2018, we separated.

Thanks to these amazing men who, despite our pain, tears, and the hot Florida sun, helped move our life off the 3rd floor into a 10×30 storage.

 

They Stuck With Me

While different than Jamie’s pain –  I was in pain too.

I cried alone.  I also bore my soul with a few trusted friends.

I turned to my father, my brother, and a mentor Dr. Warren Leslie Heckman.

Close Friends for 11 Years

I turned to another man –  10 years older than me –  who I consider to be my “older brother” — and his wife – my “older sister”.

I confided in a very small handful of the 31 guys in my Active Mentoring Circle who I felt were mature enough to bear my pain.

Young “Timothys” – who besides being mentees – are my close friends.

If I start mentioning more names of people of who stood with us, I’ll get in trouble, cuz I’ll leave someone out.

A Hell of a Summer

If you’re not a Creative, just know we Creatives fall hard.

In pain, we can have a sense of abandonment that runs deep.

The Summer of 2018 was hell in many ways.

Our children, were distant at first.  Angry.  Understandably.

Father’s Day 2018
Jamie and I were separated at this time.
T & K took me to Busch Gardens.
It made my day.

They showed as much love and kindness as they possibly could muster — to us both.  With unspoken pain on their faces.

I’ll never forget it.

Seeing us separated was so difficult for them.  I had stood in their shoes as both a child of separation and a teenager of divorce.  I get it.

Jamie and I have been their rock.

Now their strong foundation was fractured.

At times, I don’t know how I drove to work.

More than once, I cried and cried out to God all the way to work.

And all the way home.  Thirty Five miles each way.

Sometimes at work.

I felt deserted.

I screamed out loud in my car at the top of my lungs.

I felt abandoned.

Extraordinarily lonely.

Seaplane Basin Park – Davis Islands
I Journaled Here as a Healthy Outlet for Pain

But it wasn’t about me.

It wasn’t about us.

It wasn’t about our marriage.

It was about learning to Outlast – and Navigate – The Storm.

Jamie Began to Heal

At their invitation, Jamie lived with one our daughters and her spouse.

Their care and love for Jamie was beyond words.

I witnessed first hand an incredible level of unconditional love and kindness that Kasey and my daughter-in-law, Brenna, extended to Jamie by opening their home to her.

They gave her a private room.

It was a place of healing.

A place of tending to her own garden.

Mom, you aren’t allowed to do anything.  We will take care of you.  We’ve got you covered.

Victoria, reached out from 5 miles across town.  She checked on Jamie and I by text and phone.

Daddy-Daughter Detailing Date
July 2018

Two thousand miles away, Sierra and my Son-in-law, Zachary, called when they could.

Sierra was pregnant with our first grandchild during our separation.

I can’t imagine how difficult our separation was for her.  I was afraid she might face relapse.

She didn’t.  She stayed strong as did my son, Zach.

You’re a Perfect Ten

As the summer of 2018 agonizingly passed, I stopped by Jamie’s place every two weeks to leave her some cash.

Sometimes on her doorstep. Honestly with the hope of seeing her, or at least leaving a simple note.

We didn’t talk on Father’s day 2018.  The woman who gave me fatherhood.  It felt out of body.

Once I left a note that said,

You’re not a 0.1.  You’ll Always be a Perfect 10 in my book.

I am not boasting about leaving the note.

I wrote this note at the brotherly urging of one of the young Timothy’s in my Circle, Brenton Robert Miles, who said,

Be Jamie’s Fresh Start. You still have the ability to be what she needs.

 

Show her she still means the world to you no matter the level of her pain.

 

She is waiting for you to show her that you still believe in her. 

 

Keep telling her you are in love with her.

Brenton has journeyed with me since January of 2008. He was 20.  He has been a part of my Inner Circle at different times.

Our Cup Cabinet.  I See a Pattern Here.

Back from the Bottom of the Pool

On August 22, 2018, during the 4th month of separation, I invited Jamie to Starbucks.

You know I married Mrs. Starbucks right?

Despite being the Barista Queen, and former GM for SBUX,  I wasn’t sure she’d say yes.

I really thought she would say no.  She had been so distant.

But she did say “yes.”

Over a grande chai tea latte almond milk with no water, she shared with tears, that she was ready to talk more.

I had only seen Jamie shed tears twice since her mother’s death in 2011.

This was the 3rd time.  In 7.5 years.

At first I had a great deal of fear.  I wanted to be together, but I never wanted to experience this separation – this level of pain – again.

Never Again

I expressed this natural fear to Jamie on August 30, 2018.

From her gut she responded firmly, “Never Again.”  

Her reply was so powerful, we both balled (she rarely cries – and that’s OK).

My Brother Custom Designed a
Never Again
Sign for our New Place Together

Never Again – meaning,  will we Never Again allow the storm(s) to drown us.

Or separate us.

Never Again.

Dating Again

We continued to meet occasionally in September of 2018.

On weekends, she stayed the night where I was living.

We joked that it felt like we were fornicating LOL – but hey – we were still married, and married people can do what they want.

We still had the license for sex and we exercised it (insert two FIRE emojis here)!

I can’t mention names, but thank you to my older brother and sister who gave me space to bear my own pain, and didn’t give up on us.

They fed me.

Folded my laundry.

Shared their pool.

Gave me pool time alone.

My “sister” would say things like,

God’s got this!

 

It’s going to be even better than it ever was and you guys have had a great marriage!!

The Morning we Found Out We
Were Grandparents
We Stayed Together That Night

My bold “older sister” would say,

You’re getting your kids back.

 

You’re getting your finances restored.

 

You’re going to live where you want to live.

 

You’re going to hold your grand daughter together.

 

Not separately.

While I was hoping that maybe we could be together again by October of 2019 – the month of our 30th anniversary — my “sis” kept saying,

No! sooner than that – it’s going to be this fall (2018).

 

You’ll share Christmas 2018 together!

She was right.

We did.

Why Jamie Needed Space

During our counseling at Hope Restored, October 2018, Jamie was able to share with the group her fears for wanting to separate.

1. She didn’t want me to try to “fix” her.
2. She didn’t want me to see her pain and struggles as her ability to maneuver decreases from LEMS.
3. She feared being abandoned if she had to rely on anyone for care as she aged.

Our Cabin At Hope Restored
October 2018

We shared healthy tears privately and  — in front of 4 other couples the week of Hope Restored.

Initially, from her request to separate in February of 2018 to June 2, 2018 – the day we separated — I only cried with Jamie once.

I felt strongly about holding back, because when I was laying by my friend’s pool one Sunday, I heard the Spirit of God on the inside of me say,

Don’t let your pain out on your wife.  She has had enough pain of her own.

On the Balcony
Hope Restored Marriage Retreat

Light Bulb Moment

During the Hope Restored marriage retreat, I realized that had I not given Jamie the space she needed, we would not have made it.

I would go as far as to say, we needed the separation — to prepare for 30 more years together.

Our counselors and the 4 other couples we met with for 5 days, said the most honorable thing I did was telling Jamie, “Take the space you need.”

Haha —  they didn’t know the graphically crappy feelings I wrote in my personal journal during my pain, including some words I don’t normally write LOL.

Just being real here.

Any terrible curse words I may have written, I learned from my children…

Don’t ask what’s behind the orange cursing emoji.

Journal Keepers, you aren’t allowed to “scratch out” things you write in anger.

If you felt it and you wrote it — it stays.

Did King David scratch out his pain and anger from The Psalms?

But I did go back and apologize in a different color of ink to my great grandchildren —  who may likely read my journals in 2063.

Sometimes we write things when we are hurting that we didn’t mean.  (Uh, please remember THAT – Victoria, Kasey, Sierra, in 2063.)

Tending Your Own Garden

Our separation was about Jamie needing time and space to Tend her Own Garden — and —  me needing time to reflect, change, grow, release anger, forgive – and Tend to My Own Garden too.

At the Hope Restored Marriage retreat, we learned about The Courtyard of Marriage.

A healthy married couple meets in the “Courtyard” for conversation, eating, laughing, sharing, fun, talking, raising children, sex, and many other activities.

Yet, each person in the marriage must regularly step away from The Courtyard to tend to their own garden.

Behind their own picket fence, each individual has to pull their own weeds, as it were.

Each person is responsible for their own “thoughts, feelings, behaviors, and beliefs.”

And – each individual is responsible for their own “physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual well being.”

A spouse might step behind the other person’s picket fence — if invited — but most often we need time, and personal space to tend to our own garden.

Thus we can return to The Courtyard a balanced, refreshed, and whole person.

Hope Restored Retreat
Branson, October 2018

Christopher Michael Rudolph and the Lovely Lauren

Heartfelt Thanks

Shout outs and huge man hugs to several young men in my Mentoring Circle who took it upon themselves to send Jamie and I to Focus on the Family’s Marriage Intensive.

We have 30 or so young men in my “active” mentoring circle – and another 150 or so that still “land in the nest” for personal insights as needed.

September marked 36 years of mentoring for me.

Heartfelt thanks to Christopher Michael Rudolph, part of the #originalspringfieldcircle, who asked if he could raise the money for this experience – even after resistance and repeated “NO”s from me.

Christopher and I have Journeyed Together
Since April, 2008 — He was 19

A stipulation I gave Christopher was to not inform me of who donated for this trip.

I’ve never charged for mentoring and I didn’t want anyone to feel obligation.

Chris said it was just the opposite. His phone blew up when he started sending out messages.😭

We have no words.

There are also not sufficient words to thank the Hope Restored Counselors, Administrative Staff, Chefs, and Maids.

And Ron and Opal Erickson – our hosts – for their counsel, perception, kindness, love, and insights.  Their marriage survived it’s on Storm.

A Second Chance

After Christmas 2018, I asked Jamie if she was open to downsizing now that our nest is empty.

With her amazing huge smile, she said,

I’ve been waiting for you to ask.

So we agreed to downsize.

And i do mean downsize.

To 700 square feet.

At first, it seemed daunting thinking about a place this small.

But our willingness to reduce space and free ourselves of “stuff,” —  allowed us to live in one of the places we’ve dreamed about for 4 years.

On Davis Islands in South Tampa.

 

The Jetty on the South End of the Islands
One of my favorite places to
refresh and restore
It’s 5 blocks away

 

A Fresh Start

Before move in, the owners removed the wall between the kitchen and dining to open up the space.

They gutted the kitchen and bath and installed granite, stainless steel appliances, and tile.

The building is 40 years old, but it feels new and fresh.

New and fresh was something we needed.

Making the Old New

As a surprise to Jamie, while she was away for 3 days, I updated our bedroom.

We had had the same Old World Mediterranean look for 17 years.  Fine… but time for a new feel.

I went for a fresh and crisp white and gray.  Then added golds and yellows for some cheerful romance.

(Insert your choice of HGTV theme music here…haha)

We both like eclectic — mixing old and new — so I re-purposed some items from our Paloma Del Sur house in California – like the 19 pound iron vent grilles above the bed, and old candlesticks, some painted gray – some white.

The nightstands were from our kid’s rooms in the Branson Skyline Ridge house.

The tops were “kid worn” – even engraved with boyfriend initials, hearts, and peace signs!

I sanded and painted the tops gold.

 

(Old Makeup Tray Jamie Had)

You should have seen the clerk’s faces in TJ Maxx  — when I had 16 pillows laid out all over a big table in the store.

Sir – Sir! What are you doing?

“I”m getting back with my wife. It’s a surprise.”

When I gladly shared our story, they went from curious laughter to tears steaming down their faces.

One even helped me carry everything out to the Honda.

I am sure no big dudes had been in recently to redecorate bedrooms.

Ceramic Pots from the Skyline Ridge house in Branson

 

I kept an antique dresser which belonged to Jamie’s mother.

The huge mirror is still “old world” but it’s a piece of our history from the Paloma Del Sur house in Palm Springs as were the huge candlesticks – formerly brown.

Lost Ocean is one Jamie’s coloring books.
She enjoys coloring.

 

Adopting A Minimalist Lifestyle

We had enough furniture for 3,500 square feet.

Now –  700 square feet – we’ve taken the Leap to Minimalism, or near to it.

It takes TIME to take care of a lot of STUFF.

I really don’t miss that.

Making Use of Space

Combination One-Night Guest Space, Office, and Dining Room!

A Murphy bed hugs the wall on the left.

Next, an old Secretary – which is now my “mancave.”  In the middle, a pine hutch and shelves from my childhood holds home office materials.  Flea Market dining table on the right.

The black antique dining table is out of the way at only 18 inches wide.

We lift up 1 wing just for me or the two of us.

Then both wings for four people.

A Tiny Bathroom

It’s small, but except for occasional daughters, their significant others, or guys in my Circle – it’s just for two people.

Easy to clean!

Before Jamie fully moved in, I worked on a makeover for the bathroom too.

Back to TJ Maxx (“That BIG dude is back!” )  – Lowes, and Goodwill.  Yes. Some of the accessories are from the local Goodwill store.

Going for a little bit of relaxing beach feel (but not cheesy beach) and a little bit of a spa look.

A small spa at that.

(“Dogs at the Beach” – from the Local
Goodwill Store)

Useful Kitchen

I don’t miss having 41 cabinets.

The kitchen is no longer an explosion of Tupperware and appliances we can’t remember when we used last.  Or what they are for.

It’s a pleasant place to hang and prepare meals.

Life Goals

During a Date on December 12, 2018, I asked Jamie what her goals were for 2019.

Without blinking she nailed 5 things from her heart.

I love her simplicity.

Her words were simple – yet so powerful –  we’ll follow them well beyond 2019.

I still love watching this video from Valentine’s Day, 2019.

My Creative “Little” Brother designed and
hand made this from part of a fence.

Does More Stuff Make You More Prosperous?

Some say lots of STUFF makes you prosperous.

Frankly, I’ve found that too much STUFF robs us.

I feel more prosperous NOT having as much stuff.

We don’t need 5 sets of dishes.  Nine hamburger spatulas.  Or forty seven insulated coffee mugs.  We don’t need 4 bathrooms.

We need time to Love.

You can always get more money.

But you don’t get more TIME.

Once TIME is passed, it’s passed.

TIME is more valuable than money.

Now – cleaning the house takes 16 minutes – not 4 hours.

We are Free to rest.

Free to laugh.

Free to walk 2 blocks to the Seddon Channel.

Stroll 5 blocks to Tampa Bay.

Free to fall asleep on a blanket in the grass at The Seaplane Basin Park.

 

Jamie, I am so deeply sorry about the unrelenting Perfect Storm that rolled into your life.

I am proud of your newfound strength.  You came back from the bottom of the pool.

Victoria, Kasey, and Sierra, at first I hated it that you had to navigate the The Storm too.

Yet, in reality, I’ve observed your enormous growth.  You’ve told me you wouldn’t change it.

You are now stronger young women and wiser.  I am proud of your adult journeys. 

I love your mates and future mates.  Your babies and your fur babies.

We all lived.

We all love each other.

We are building trust again.

We are friends.

We made it.

The Real Savior

Almighty God, you deserve and receive our Thanksgiving, and our Honor.

Your Love is Unrelenting.

Your kindness Indescribable.

You never looked The Other Way.

You held us Closely, Tightly, yet Gently.

You kept track of Our Tears.

You Breathed for us when we were Drowning.

You were our Hope when there was no Hope.

You Anchored Us. 

Through The Perfect Storm.

Thanks for reading.

Here’s to 30 More Years.

 

— Mark Edward

---

Blessed are all who fear the Lord,
    who walk in obedience to Him.
² You will eat the fruit of your labor;
    blessings and prosperity will be yours.
³ Your wife will be like a fruitful vine
    within your house;
your children will be like olive shoots
    around your table.
⁴ Yes, this will be the blessing
    for the man who fears the Lord.

–Psalm 128

12  Then our sons in their youth will be like well-nurtured plants,
and our daughters will be like pillars carved to adorn a palace.