My wife, Karen and I, grew up in difficult home environments. Both of us had parents who remained married. And both of us were also abused by others. I’ll write of those experiences in other books. But this book emerged from those experiences because of a deep conviction that every kid deserves safe adults.
The abuse Karen experienced, fragmented her soul. Each soul fragment, a hidden aspect of her personality, had a name. As she walked through 20 plus years of recovery, I began to meet the “kids on the inside,” one after another. One of the first I met was Phillip, a 6-year-old little guy, on the spectrum, who rocked and said colors to calm himself.
I loved Phillip, this part of Karen. He was artistic, humorous, intelligent, and the holder of so much faith and joy.
He became for me a picture of a kid who had endured too much for his young years and who at last had found healing.
While in a class I was teaching a couple years ago, when I completed one of the assignments, I made a discovery I never expected. The assignment was to identify something I needed to proclaim, tell what it was and how I would share it. My deep desire to protect and rescue kids from tough environments emerged as a desire to tell a story and help kids in the process. I said to my group that I would write a story.
In that preparation, I saw this picture of a little boy in a dark closet. He sat there with his service animal. He was rocking, and rocking and saying his colors. And I heard the start of his story, as he said, “Hello, my name is Phillip.” I began to write.
Over the next year, I wrote about 15,000 words. A friend then encouraged me with the writing, so with lockdown, I began to get up at 5 am to write daily.
The thirty-chapter story flowed forth over the next nearly three months as this child described his world.
As I wrote, I realized the story went deep. It accessed deep healing in my own heart as character after character emerged in the story.
Sometimes, as I wrote, I wept. Other times, I laughed out loud, almost forgetting I had written what made me laugh. Still others, knowing what was yet to happen, I didn't want to write for I feared "writing about that!"
I want you to know, part of the little boy you'll meet in this book is me emerging from the dark closets of my own past finally finding his voice. And part of the little boy is the other “Phillip,” I first met in Karen. Both of these internal kids, alongside of the story which seemed to write itself about a child who is not either of us, but rather, himself.
Jesus figured into this story, for both my wife and I have experienced His immense mercy, power and grace in our own healings and so, it made sense when suddenly, He quietly, powerfully entered Phillip’s story. The Lion of the Tribe of Judah surprised me as He ushered in powerful forgiveness.
I know there are children out there growing up in tough environments who need to know there is hope. To them I say. “The scary adults around you are not the only adults out there. There are people, real people, who will see you for the wonderful human beings you are and will love you. May Phillip’s story bring you hope, for in Jesus there is always hope.”
And Phillip—I’m grateful to have known and loved you, and to know you still. You have changed my life for the better.
