Hi friends! On today’s episode of Draw Near to Me, we will begin part 4 of Travis’s faith journey. For those who prefer to read, today’s content is also posted below. As a recap, part 3 ended with Travis’s wife being rushed to the hospital. She was only around 5 months pregnant when they did an emergency C-section. They did not know if their son would survive. It was crushing. As Travis sat beside his wife in the hospital, who was sleeping from all the pain medications, he opened his Bible and saw James 1:2. It essentially said to count it as pure joy when you face trials and tribulations. In anger, he slammed his Bible shut and asked God, “What good could you possibly do out of this situation?” Since this is a man’s testimony, my husband, Jeff, will narrate Travis’s story. If you enjoyed this post, please share it with others using the share button below. Also, please consider doing a free or paid subscription to Draw Near to Me so you don’t miss any future content. With that, let’s dive into part 4 of Travis’s story. Enjoy!
Although my wife was eventually released from the hospital and allowed to come home, our son remained there. We were at the hospital nonstop to see him. Kristina went every day, and I went every other day. That way I could alternate spending my evenings visiting him or being with my older two boys at home.
During that time, it was evident how men and women can be wired very differently. For my wife, it was good for her to spend time with our baby at the hospital. I, on the other hand, really struggled with being there. I often left upset. I wanted to fix something, but all I could do was watch him sitting there in that incubator. It tore me up. Sometimes I didn’t stay very long. I felt guilty if I left after 30 minutes, but I had to leave because I was so angry that I couldn’t do anything to change things.
Early on, a doctor explained to us that our son had a 50% chance of survival at that point. He added that, statistically speaking, once preemies got to the two-week period, the survival rate went up to 80%. So, me and my wife made the decision to just focus on the baby steps. We began praying for our son to make it through the next 14 days.
On Sunday, two weeks to the day everything happened, my wife and I went to church and then headed to the hospital. We walked in excited that our son had made it to the two-week point. This was the day we had been hoping and praying for. As we entered, there was an on-shift doctor there that we’d never seen before. He looked at us and said, “Your son has a heart issue. His chance of survival is less than 50%.” Me and Kristina thought that our son’s survival rate was gonna be moved up to 80%, but now we were told it was even lower? I was crushed.
The next day I got up and drove the long hour commute to work. After receiving that news the day before, I knew I could not sit around the house or the hospital that Monday. I just wanted something to feel normal. I guess I was trying to hide in my work.
That evening there was a huge storm. It was pouring down rain as I drove home. I began crying. I felt so angry with God. It made no sense. We had been praying for this two-week point and now instead of our chances getting better they got worse? I thought, “Why are you doing this?” I think many of us can feel that way when we face these trials.
I started yelling at God because I was just so angry at Him. Quite honestly, I was using some language that I don’t encourage people to use with God. Suddenly, in the midst of that torrential storm, something hit me all at once. I realized there was never a point in my life where I stopped believing in God. Even when I was searching for more answers, during my whole life journey there was always a part of me that knew Him.
Although I believed in Him, in my pain and tears I needed something more. I didn’t start praying for a miracle or even for my son to be fully healed. My prayer was simple. In the middle of the heavy, pouring rain, I called out and said, “God, I need to know that you’re here. I need to know that you’re with us through this. I need a sign. I want to see the rain stop and I want the sun to shine right now.”
As soon as I said those words, the rain stopped and the clouds parted. Straight in front of me the sun was shining through onto the highway. I started crying even harder. Then the moment ended. The sky closed up and the rain started again.
When I tell people this story, I say that it is my Gideon story because once was not enough. I said, “God, I don’t want this to be coincidence. I want to see the rain stop again.” I knew I needed more. For a second time the rain stopped, and the clouds parted. It was overwhelming.
I went home with the feeling that God was going to be with us. I don’t know how much actual detail I shared with my wife about my drive home. It was such a blur. However, when I came in, I told her, “I don’t know what this looks like, but I know God’s gonna be with us through this.”
The cool thing was that me and my wife started praying together. We had never really been big on doing that before, but the circumstances kind of forced us to because we didn’t know what else to do. We simply prayed with each other through the entire process. In the end, we did not get a miracle healing for our son or anything crazy like that. What we received was knowing that God was with us. We walked through that journey together.
Things were not easy. Life was completely different. We both had to pull out of our roles in church, especially my wife. She dropped everything. I was still trying to kind of serve when I could, but I finally had to step out of that role completely. I had to put the focus on home.
I still struggled because my whole world was turned upside down. I was mad about the situation with my son and what our life looked like. In retrospect, there was also an arrogance I had about my role in church. I thought God needed me to do all the things I accomplished there. I did not understand why He would take me out of the game. Later, I would learn clearly why He did.
It’s crazy as I reflect on that time. We read scripture about the amazing things that God did for the Israelites, and then we see them turn their back on Him. We think how in the world could they ever do it? Then, we do it ourselves. That was kind of how I was. God gave me that amazing moment on the highway where I could not deny that it was Him, and yet I still struggled with anger.
Throughout that time, my wife encouraged me to find a men’s group to go to. She wanted me to find a group of guys that could get around me and help me work through things. I did not want to. I thought, “What men’s group is gonna help me?” I did not think they would understand what it was like to have a premature child. To have a kid that you can’t do anything for and the hardship that was involved. But my wife was persistent and kept nudging me to go.
I finally gave in. There was a men’s group that met at our church on Saturday mornings, which I decided to attend. Honestly, the only reason I went was so that I could come home and tell my wife that they didn’t get it or understand. That way I could use it as an out and say that it was not gonna work for me. I really didn’t want to be in a group.
I showed up to the men’s group on Saturday that was led by this guy named Mike. We knew each other a little bit through serving at church. The funny thing was that me and Mike went to the same church when I lived out in Charleston, but we never really met each other there. He was involved in the men’s ministry, and I was involved in the middle school ministry. Our paths did not cross until Chattanooga.
The men’s group was small. When I walked in, I was the 3rd person there. It was Mike and one other guy. He was rebuilding the men’s group, so I got in early in that process. I thought the men might already know what was going on with me since everybody in the church kind of knew our story. What I was not prepared for was when Mike began to share about his family member who had a child almost exactly like mine. It was enough for me to realize that maybe Mike was going to get this a little bit more than I thought. Looking back, I can see that I was desperate for anybody that could relate to what I was going through.
I started going to that men’s group. Mike was a very blunt, straightforward kind of guy, and that’s what I needed. Over time, a few other guys started showing up. My previous experience with church had always been one where we learned and perhaps had a great Bible study; however, people did not talk about their struggles. We didn’t get real in these groups. That left me with the underlying feeling that maybe everybody in church had it together except for me. I did not feel that I could be open about our challenges, because what if people found out I was serving in church, but I did not have it all together.
That men’s group was different. For the first time, I was in a group where the guys were really open and honest. We talked about life in a real way and shared our struggles. Mike was incredibly open about his story and mistakes he had made, and others did the same. It was a place to process through things with others.
Even though God had shown Himself to me that rainy day, I was still so angry. It makes me sad to look back and see that. I was extremely stressed with our son in the hospital. He underwent numerous surgeries. After about 6 months in the hospital, my son got released on August 30, 2011. He finally got to come home. However, the fact that I was at home less and less since I was at the hospital all the time took its toll.
My oldest son, who was like my buddy beforehand, became desperate for my attention because I was more out of the picture at home. He was ADHD and got loud, intense, and in my face. The pressure was mounting and honestly, I was not a good dad. I yelled at him a lot. I never physically abused him, but verbally I was tearing him down and telling him to get away from me. We fought every night.
When my oldest was about eight years old, I caught him with a little backpack packed. He told me he was running away from home because he thought I didn’t love him anymore. It hit me so hard. It was a big turning point for me. That night, I went to bed, and I wrote out 7 pages where I asked myself, “What is wrong with me?” I wrote down all the stuff I struggled with. Then, on Saturday, I actually went to my small group and told the guys I needed to read those 7 pages detailing what I was dealing with.
It was a big thing for me to share my life struggles. A large part of what I wrote was about my dad and my stepdad. I thought I was mad at God about the situation with my youngest son, but really what started coming out was that I had a lot of anger towards my dad. The wounds from my childhood had begun to emerge.
I recounted a time when I was 8 years old, and I was playing wiffle ball with my dad. I was so proud because I could make the ball curve, dive, and all that stuff. As a result, my dad had a hard time hitting the ball. He became frustrated, dropped the bat, and told me, “I’m done playing. It’s not fun with you anymore.” That was the last time I remember my dad playing with me.
I grew up really disconnected from my dad. My stepdad was a hard worker, but he was not a good role model either. Both had hurt my mom very badly, and I was very close to her. It created a lot of anger that I had not previously recognized until that point.
I started seeing how my past affected my marriage. I tried so hard to avoid being the type of husband and father that my dad and stepdad were. Yet, I could never be good enough. I put so much pressure on myself. Looking back at those years when my wife and I were going through a hard period in our marriage, I could not, to this day, look back and identify a reason I was mad at her. There was no reason. It was all that internal struggle that I was working through.
It all started coming out in that men’s small group. The anger that was deep inside of me was now being pulled out. But God was not done revealing things to me. One day, Mike invited me to go on a men’s backpacking trip in SC. It was on that trip that God broke me with what seemed like the most childlike question.
To be continued.
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Humbled Before God- Travis's Faith Journey- Part 4