Five days of constantly hanging out with dad, mom, and mom’s boyfriend. The most exhausting week of my life. Buckle in folks, this one’s a ride.
Technically PVT started the morning of March 10th, but for me it began around lunch time. I was standing in line, waiting to get some food when a taxi pulled up. None of the parents had arrived yet, and I assumed they’d all arrive at the same time so I didn’t think much of a solo taxi. Still, as I watched it come closer, I began to make out the faces inside. They were clearly someone’s parents, and then they were familiar, and then they were mine. People started asking “Who’s parents are those?”, and all I could say was “Those are mine”.
The “Parent Vision Trip” (aka PVT) is an opportunity for racers to invite their parents onto the field for a week of fellowship and ministry. After much prayer and listening to God, I invited three parents: my dad, my mom, and my mom’s boyfriend Jason. Well, all of them accepted and arrived on March 10th. I though God would do something cool, but I never could have predicted how He was going to change my family forever.
It was March 11th, the first morning of ministry. I walked onto the pavilion with my three parents, unsure of what was to come. My mind sometimes drifted back to six years ago, when my parents finalized their divorce. I remembered the years leading up to that day, all the fighting and anger that had surrounded my home. I remembered the hurts and grief, and I once again wondered if it would’ve been a better idea to not invite them at all.
Our ministry for the morning was making chairs for REAP Granada (that’s the farm I live on now). The instructor Dave gave us all the supplies and send each family to work. The four of us began to work on the bases of the chair, setting them up for other families. At first, my dad and Jason drilled while I held boards together with my mom. Sometimes she would smile at me or laugh with Jason, and I would remember the woman I knew six years ago. In 2013 I saw a lost woman, one with few finances and even fewer prospects. She was worn, she was broken, and she wasn’t quite sure how to hold it all together. For four years I watched her work and go to school and grow in the Lord in a way I didn’t understand. She went from a lost orphan to a Godly woman, and I still can’t believe how she overcame all the hate and depression that followed the divorce. Now here she was, in the presence of her ex-husband, laughing and goofing around. What the heck?
It wasn’t long before my dad and Jason got me on the drill. Each one would help me along as they happened to be nearby, with all the patience in the world. As my hands wobbled and the drill cracked the wood, my dad would reach over and set the drill straight. It was in those moments where I knew that God had changed me, because I would have rejected any of his help before the race. My mind walked back to six years ago, when my father and I used to fight. After living in a home of constant conflict, I began to learn what it means to be overcome with anger, and I unleashed all my hurt and fury onto my dad. Being a man lost in his own anger, my dad replied in kind, and our relationship was ripped apart. He and I would scream and yell every time we saw each other, and I barely treated him like he was human. Honestly, my anger to him was equivalent to hate. It wasn’t of the Lord. Eight months went by, and one day I stopped going back because it wasn’t worth it anymore. Why should I fight for something so broken?
What followed that time was the darkest pit in my life. Since I stopped seeing my dad, all that anger I had built up inside turned in on me. I felt more self hate than I could bear, I dove into self harm, and continually considered suicide. During this time my dad went through his own battles. We were both broken people, we both wanted a change, but neither one of us had an answer.
Eventually I found my answer in Jesus and have been running after him ever since. I walked through two years of counseling after the divorce and worked through the anger I had inside. I begged God to heal my heart and take away all the hate inside, and I surrounded myself with people who were who I wanted to be. Over time I began to change and slowly incorporate my dad back into my life. We would meet up a few times a year for a quick catch up over lunch, and then we’d go back to our own lives. I saw my dad sit in at my high school graduation with my mom and Jason, and it meant more to me than he’ll ever know. Then I left and was sitting in Ethiopia when God began to say “pray for your dad”, and I prayed the impossible prayer of peace. I prayed for my parents to be friends, for my dad and I to have a renewed relationship, and for him to find peace. Now here we are, in the middle of Nicaragua, building a chair with his ex-wife and her boyfriend. He came all the way down here because my dad and I finally shared a common ground- we had hope. My dad and I are still healing our relationship, but something changed. In the middle of a forgotten mine field, we found peace. He’s healing and I can’t wait to see where the Lord will bring him next.
We continued to work under the pavilion, each taking turns at drilling and holding the boards to the chair. My dad and Jason stopped hand in me the drill after awhile (it was for the best) and I spent a little time just watching this scene unfold before me. All my parents, laughing and working together. Jason kept poking and teasing my mom whenever he got the chance, and she would just glow. I walked back to 2017, when Jason changed from the guy who fixed our trucks to the guys asking my mom out. I had my guard up from the start, making sure this guy had the right intentions with my mom. Then, I watched them fall in love. I never considered Jason “my dad”, but he has always loved my mom and her children beautifully. He prioritized our relationship with our mom before his, and then he encouraged us to become better than we were before. When I considered going on the race, I never worried about leaving my mom because I knew she had Jason to take care of her. Now here he was, in the middle of a foreign country, working with his love and her ex because his girlfriend’s daughter was there.
There were so many times where we all had to work together. Some people would hold beams, some would drill, and if I was drilling someone had to hold my hand still XD but it was the first time I really understood that the tension was gone. We were all hurt from the divorce and had our own junk to walk through, but for one week all the baggage from the past was gone. I got to reconnect with my mom, begin a new relationship with my dad, and gain a new understanding of Jason’s place in the family.
I know divorce wasn’t God’s plan because I walked through one. I’ve seen the pain divorce causes, how it rips everyone in it’s path in a way that completely shatters their heart. I’ve been in the depths of despair and for so many years I thought I’d always have a toe inside, as though God would mostly heal me but couldn’t quite erase the traces of broken shards I carried from my once beating heart. I know God didn’t make people to get divorced, but now I know what He can do in its place. Instead of a husband and wife, I have a dad, a mom, and a Jason. My parents won’t remarry, but somehow my family is being restored. Somehow we’re finding a new definition of love and peace, and as tears fill my eyes while I type these lines, I can assure you that it feels so good.
Never stop praying the impossible prayers, never stop lifting up hopeless situations to the living God. It’s amazing what God can do with a humble prayer and a little faith.
~CLS
