An Old Outlaw and a Praying Woman
I sit here with my old dog at my feet, loading my pipe with Captain Black while Old Grand-Dad melts the ice in my glass.
The radio plays an old Hank Jr. song, and just like that, I am carried back to another place in time.
Back to the day G-d sent me a honey badger.
Pull up a chair for a spell.
There are seasons in a man’s life when he finds himself looking backward—not because he wants to go back, but because he finally understands where G-d has brought him from.
I come from the mountains of Eastern Oregon, where a man learns early that weather changes fast, roads get rough, and your word had better be worth something.
I was never the polished kind.
There was a time when folks knew me for all the wrong reasons.
I was rough.
I was rowdy.
I lived hard, fought hard, and believed a man’s word was worth more than the paper a contract was written on.
If I gave my word, I stood behind it.
If someone wanted to stand toe to toe, I was not looking for a way out.
There were years marked by violence, whiskey, jail cells, foolish decisions, and enough pride to convince myself I answered to no one.
I had enough fight in me to last three lifetimes.
I thought being hard made me a man.
Turns out, it only made me hard.
Now don’t misunderstand me.
I still believe a man ought to keep his word.
I still believe a husband ought to stand between danger and his family.
I still believe a man ought to tell the truth, even when it costs him.
Those things did not need fixing.
My heart did.
Then one day, everything changed.
She walked through the door.
People sometimes imagine that a woman changes a man by making him softer.
That was not our story.
G-d did not send me somebody timid.
He sent me a honey badger.
My wife is fierce.
She is stubborn.
She is courageous.
She is feisty, full of fire, and more than willing to stand her ground when conviction requires it.
She laughs with her whole heart.
She loves with her whole heart.
And when life demands it, she will fight for the people she loves with everything she has.
That was one of the first things I admired about her.
She never wanted a boy pretending to be a man.
She wanted a husband who would carry responsibility, protect his family, keep his word, and stand firm when life became difficult.
Then G-d joined our lives together in covenant.
Two broken people, carrying wounds from roads neither of us should have traveled, became one flesh.
Our brokenness did not disappear overnight.
But the Father, in His mercy, began fitting together pieces that neither of us could have restored alone.
My wife prayed.
She prayed when I could not.
She believed when I doubted.
She stayed when it would have been easier to walk away.
She loved me enough to tell me the truth and trusted G-d enough to let Him do the changing.
She did not save me.
She would never claim that she did.
Yeshua saves.
The Father restores.
The Spirit transforms.
My wife was the faithful servant whom G-d used in that work.
Strength is not measured by how many fights you win.
It is measured by whether your strength has been brought under the authority of the King.
The courage that once carried me into foolishness now belongs to my family.
The stubbornness that once resisted everyone now clings to covenant.
The willingness to stand my ground has found its rightful place—not in defending my pride, but in defending truth, protecting my wife, loving my family, and serving the Kingdom of Heaven.
The outlaw did not disappear.
He bowed his knee.
There is only one King worthy of a man’s absolute allegiance.
His name is Yeshua the Messiah.
When I think about my wife today, I think of Proverbs 31.
Not because she is fragile.
Because she fears G-d.
Because she is faithful.
Because she has stood beside me through storms that many people never saw.
So today I do not glorify the outlaw I once was.
I glorify the mercy of G-d.
The Kingdom of Heaven is not built from perfect people.
It is built from redeemed people.
It is filled with men and women who have been brought out of darkness and into His marvelous light.
If my story points to anything, let it point beyond me.
Let it point to a faithful wife.
Let it point to the mercy of the Father.
Let it point to Yeshua the Messiah.
And let it remind every broken man that no road is too long, no past is too dark, and no heart is too hard for the King who still calls outlaws to become sons.
To G-d be the glory, forever.
