I had been through a number of crisis-related situations with Chandra a couple 2-3 days before the phone call came into my house. I made a conscious decision to let the answering machine pick it up. Later on that morning, there was a grave message on my answering machine from a social worker at University Hospital telling me that I needed to come there.

The people at the desk escorted me to a back room and gave me the grave news that my daughter was brought to the hospital that morning with a self-inflicted gunshot wound. The prognosis was not good and I needed to be prepared for the ultimate situation, which could be and most likely would be, her death. 

My daughter suffered from a heroine addiction and a, what I know now, is a mis-diagnosed and untreated mental health condition. 

On the morning of Chandra's funeral, I had to get out of the house. I was overwhelmed and I needed to be alone. The track to me is a quiet place of solitude. That was sort of my place of worship, if you will. I had an unbelievable meltdown. I fell to the ground and felt like I was paralyzed and I literally felt Jesus' brilliant white robe sweep me up. So I got up on my feet and I stood there. I knew that even through I was destined to go through a real dark place with many challenges, which is called grief, that He was going to be there with me. 

So one morning in the middle of my grief, I was drawn to the rafters of my garage and it was like a magnet, and I opened up the tote and there was her Bible. And I knew, based on conversations I would have with her from time to time, how deep her faith was, but I needed to be shown it. So I opened up her Bible, and in the margins - she had written correspondence in the margins, as if she as having conversations with Jesus. And it was almost if, my awesome Father said to me, "Now see? Can we move on, now?" What a gift, what a gift I received.

I start my day in worship, with mediation, Scripture reading and prayer. This is a radical change that's come into my life because my track record before that, that was the absolute last thing I would have even remotely considered doing. 

I went through extreme levels of guilt. The guilt I felt was not authored by Jesus. Jesus continued to reassure me that my healing was underway, my therapy was knowing Him, being with Him and trusting Him.