Roots and Wings

 The hardest part of writing a story is knowing where to begin. The painstaking labor of wordsmithing; the first sentence is like a first breath. And in this reflective narrative, there is no finality... only the gentle whisper of fluttering wings. 

The greatest advice I've ever received on the subject of parenting was the suggestion that a father's role is to provide two things: roots and wings. 

The underground root system of your tree is widespread and interconnected to a village of voices, cheering and guiding you from your first steps across the living room to your final dance across the stage as you receive your diploma. It's all a dance, really. There's a choreography and cadence in each step. And where there have been missteps and skinned knees - grace caught you. And grace has kept you.

Last week you turned 18 years old. My little buddy... (Jesus, here come the tears as I reflect on the scenes flashing in my memory) trying to keep up with me on mountain hike. You finally stopped and reached out your arms for me to carry you. And the time I heard your heavy breathing and grunting to keep up with my pace as we walked up the property behind our house in North Carolina.

There you were with a hiking stick and messy and hair and runny nose, and I had almost lost you in the PTSD of my own self-destruction. If only I could make up for lost time... I would make it my ambition to cultivate Kairos/Holy Moments in the wake of chronological realities. Quality time over quantity. The blink of presence and the agony of absence. 

I want to tell you that I'm sorry. I am sorry for my contribution to the breakdown in the marriage to mom. I am sorry for not being the man I should have been. I am sorry for letting you down and hurting the nuclear family dynamic. I am sorry for disrupting the otherwise idyllic childhood, and I'm sorry for the confusing example of must have been to you over the years. I live with a tsunami of shame, and I don't want to carry it anymore. 

Because I also want to tell you that I'm proud of this labor of love - to be a daddy to three daughters. I have literally done the best that I could possibly do, given the realities of my imperfections and the limits of shared custody. I forged forward into the rest of my life, marrying Teresa and rebuilding from the ashes. Together we resolved to cultivate a blended family with vulnerable confessions, and global adventures. We sacrificed material possessions for...

Walking in the rain through the empty streets of Versailles, France 

Hiking the Swiss Alps, getting literally lost in the powdered snow drifts

Hang-gliding over the turquoise waters of Cancun, Mexico

Mediterranean Cruise ships, dinners and dancing and foreign beaches

White Water rafting in Alaska, just you and I battling the class 5* rapids

Picking out the fattest puppy in the litter, to named "Jax" 

Solo trip to Chicago to watch Hamilton and focus on quality time with you

Solo trip to Jackson Hole, to snowboard Mountain King Resort - even though you "weren't ready!"

Solo trip to Hot Tugging in a glacial lake in Switzerland at sunset.

Sunrise over Bryce Canyon, handstands in Willow Creek Slot Canyon, hiking The Narrows, cliff jumping in Zion National Park, and a snowball fight in the Rocky Mountain National Park, witnessing "Old Faithful" geyser in Yellowstone, and falling asleep under the stars. 

For 18 years I have stood on the sidelines (as close as I could get) ... cheering my lungs out for you! This is also a metaphor for your strength of character. I have stood at the edge of the driveway waiving my arms like a silly fool as you exited the bus. I have sat on cold bleachers and under the blazing sun. I have shared waves with you in Mexico, and mountains with you in the snow. I have loved every single moment of your formative years...

and the roots are now giving way to wings. 

I changed my mind: The hardest part about writing is not knowing where to begin, it's knowing how to craft the final paragraph. It's the paradoxical agony of holding on and letting go in the same breath. So, I will conclude with love, only love. Please hear these words again for the first time. Unplug the white noise and listen with your heart.

I love you, Ambria. I love the way you choose to trust and walk in faith. I love the way you speak your mind and listen critically. I love the way you worship Jesus in the 2nd row, and the way you look for invisible fingerprints of the divine conspiracy all around us. I love your faithfulness and submission, your integrity to seek the heart of your Heavenly Father and how almost every page of your bible is underlined. I love the YHWH tattoo and fearlessness with which you walk through a Mozambiquan village with the conviction, tenacity, and resolution to destroy the works of the enemy. I love that you are not spoiled or materialistic, placing little value on possession. I love the way you love Jacob (and Tina!) and the depth of your devotion to make choices around a beautiful future. I love our talks, and I even love our silence. 

Because I know that you will come back some day and say thank you. I know that you will someday find creative ways to express your love to your own children. You will probably start a journal or a blog like this, and then - only then- will you realize the infinite depth of a parent's love. It's like a volcano that is eternally active, and a heart that beats with the rhythm of holding on and letting go and holding on and letting go and holding on and letting go...

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"So Long, Farewell... Goodbye"

 Last year you exploded onto the scene with an unexpected celebration of song and dance with the Holland High School Vocal Dimensions. This came as a bit of a surprise to those who only knew of you as the invisible, middle sister. The younger sibling of Mariah. The quiet one. The self-proclaimed introvert who seemed more comfortable in solitude than on a grand stage.

And then suddenly, you had a microphone and a spotlight and hijacked the audience with the charisma of a rock star - full of grace and truth. You seemed as comfortable under the spotlight as you would in the comfort of your own bedroom. You simply owned the performance!

And last weekend you returned in full glory. Now in your final few weeks as a senior at Holland High, you threw all of your focused energy into one last song and dance. This year's Vocal Dimensions was themed "On Broadway", including a celebration of musical performances throughout the years. 

You sang with gusto and danced with confidence and melted the hearts of everyone in attendance! You rocked with the 60's and masqueraded with the roaring 20's and never missed a beat. While the other members of the cast did very well in their own right, it was very obvious that NOBODY could match your stage presence. Your cute little smirk and dimple and stunning profile... you were mesmerizing in a thousand movements! 

The highlight of the performance came while Jacob (your boyfriend of 4 years!) was singing a solo on an otherwise empty stage... when suddenly you appeared from stage left. Slowly you approached him and he whisked you away for a silhouette dance that left us all in a million pieces of sentimentality. The two of you were carried away by a pure and holy love that seemed to synchronize with chorus of all creation... this is what love looks like. This is beauty and trust and vulnerability and effortless and magical.

In the end, the seniors took the stage for a rendition from the Sound Of Music. Each senior said their metaphorical goodbye with a song and a quiet exit from the stage. I knew immediately that there was more to this song than just a performance... You were truly waiving goodbye to hard and glorious years at Holland High School. You were waiving goodbye to the middle school years of being left out from your friend's groups. You were waiving goodbye to the mud and blood and tears of Cross Country, and goodbye to running in the rain chasing a soccer ball down the sideline and hearing your dad screaming in celebration. You were saying goodbye to the politics and the popularity contests and the homecomings and the dances and the dresses and the bleachers where you cheered for your boyfriend as he scored countless touchdowns. Goodbye to the morning coffees he would bring you ever day to school. Goodbye to Dutch Dancing and a Laketown Beach and all of the flashbacks over the years. 

Tears remained, and gratitude - only gratitude. 

Ambria Faith, "I'll be seeing you..."

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Western Michigan University

 Last weekend you had the opportunity to tour the campus of Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo. You were delightfully surprised by the experience, and felt like it very well might become your first choice in a myriad of options. When I asked you what exactly you liked about the university, you mentioned the practical realities of having a large hospital in close proximity to the campus, as well as the the city and campus with a lot of opportunities to socialize. 

If you were accepted to WMU, then Jacob would join you in Kalamazoo at the community college near bye. All of this is less than an hour away from us in Grand Rapids... and all of this is why I began to hold out hope that you would get accepted here. 

On Saturday we had the opportunity to take a road trip up to Caberfae Peaks to enjoy a Saturday full of snowboarding. Just the two of us. (You had asked if Adelle could possibly join us, and in a rare denial I declined to accommodate. This time I wanted you all to myself. I realized that you'll be 18 in two months, and I'm literally anticipating you're suddenly going to evaporate). As we drove, you further shared with me the details of your trip to Kalamazoo, and why you're trying not to get emotionally attached because every one of the applicants are stellar students with resumes a mile long. But I know you, and there's nobody like my girl!

And then a few days ago, I flew to whirlwind weekend trip to Las Vegas to visit my college roommates. As the plane touched down in the desert, I switched my toggle from Airplane Mode and suddenly a handful of texts came through. 

"Guess who got into Western!!" on the family text thread...

This was followed by glitter and party hats and all things celebrative. 

I must have inherited my unabashed sentimentality from my mother. I don't know why every little conversation or turn of events makes me tear up with gratitude. As you already know, I read that text and brushed the tears from my eyes... this is the next quarter of your life. The page is about to turn, and I don't want to let go. 

I am really struggling with this. I'm leaning into the discomfort of surrender, knowing that it's my job as a parent to raise you up in such a way that you are fearless in the wake of uncertainty. I can gauge my success as a father by one thing: The spiritual fruit that you exhibit as evidence of your relationship with Jesus. Everything else is secondary and pales in comparison. And for this reason, I can exhale with a deep gratitude that my daughter(s) are announcing and demonstrating the coming of the Kingdom of God to the next generation. 

And so it's official: You are Western Michigan University Brono, accepted into a direct admission into the School of Nursing. You're going to study anesthesiology, and follow your heart into a glorious future. 

And I'm the guy on the sidelines, cheering for you my little diesel engine...

Home Away From Home [Sayulita]

 There is something about the culture in Sayulita, Mexico... the quiet mornings, the sound of waves rolling in and crashing violently on the shore in front of an empty beach. It's all so peaceful! Afternoons on the beach, Jack Johnson playing on your BluTooth speaker, and laying in the sun... trading waves on the rented surfboard, and walking into the surf shops with sand on bare feet. Then we return to Casa Blanca Hotel and shower, get dressed up cute, and pile into a golf cart to ride into town. "DePoy's are here! Crash." The evenings in Sayulita are crazy! Live music and interruptions, sensory overload! The smell of pollo on an open grill, sizzling carne asada, and various concoctions of fruity drinks! When all is said and done, we ride around aimlessly in the golf cart, taking the back roads and getting lost. It is only the smell of "Hot Churros"that can lead us back to the north side, followed by gelato of course. 

It all feels like home. Or at least, a home away from home. It's a familiar place, and a rhythm we know. A chorus we can sing. A past, present, and future memory.

Every day we wake up to check the surf report. In the distance we can see a myriad of swimmers near the shore, and surfers taking turns around the reef.  "What's on the itinerary today?" The answer is always, sunshine and surf and good food. 

This time we were joined by Skot and Carie Lokers, as well as Dwight and Betsy Beal. They added so much charm to the vacation, and it was so fun to introduce them to our happy place! We walked through the jungle (got lost), overrun by massive palm trees and unripened coconuts and dirt trails that fork and split and shhhhh, listen - hear the sound of the waves just west of us! We must be getting close!

On our final day, we took an uber transport to the small fishing village of El Anclote (Punta De Mita). We spent a few minutes bartering with local fishermen to take us out on their boat to see the migrating whales. We had an amazing experience two years ago, and now we have returned with friends. 

Once we got out to the Marietta Islands area, our boat guide nestled the boat into quiet waters. We waited for a stirring, then suddenly: volcanic eruption from the Pacific Ocean! A giant humpback whale leaped from the depths of the salt water, and did a full rotation breach in the air before splashing down right near our boat! This sent all of us eyewitnesses into a collective gasp, as we were literally sprayed with the splashing water around us! 

For the next four hours, we were held captive to the majesty of creation. At one point Dwight led us in the acappella version of "How Great Thou Art!", and then we all went snorkeling for a while...

These days, I am soaking in every minute with my girls. Because I realize that in the next few months, everything is going to change. The next time we return to Sayulita, you will probably be with Jacob and hopefully this will be a place to which we can return for many more years to come. I want to introduce your children and their children to our home away from home. I want to watch the look on your face, as you watch the look on the faces of your children... experiencing the wonder of it all. 

Life is good.

And these are "the good old days."

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Campus Tour: Saginaw Valley State University

We woke up before dawn, and stumbled our way through the kitchen toward the coffee. We load up the Mazda 6 and type in the GPS for the coordinates to Saginaw. It's too early to talk, so you plug in your road trip playlist and Zach Bryan sings to us as we drive east...

I look over and you're curled up in a ball in the passenger seat. You missed the sunrise, as I stare into the bright colors. The November sky is dark and cryptic, and the clouds give way to scattered showers. We only brought one umbrella for this campus tour, but that's ok. You can have it. I'm just glad to walk with you.

As you sleep, a few tears form a getaway run and I had a flashback: I'm driving home from Chicago, early in the morning - to help Mariah move into her freshman dorm at Grand Valley State University. I'm literally sobbing to Teresa as I tell her all of my regrets as a dad. This memory stirs more emotions... now here I am again, crying as I transport my Diesel Engine Baby Girl to visit her possible college destination. I have flashbacks of climbing Craggy Gardens together, and you kept tripping over the rocks and roots and steps and with muddy knees, you reach for me. I scoop you up and carry you up the mountain. And then flashbacks of the time we went snowboarding in Jackson Hole. You were so frustrated because of the icy conditions that you fell on your butt and yelled at me, "I told you I wasn't ready for this!" So I sat with you halfway down the icy mountain and together we walked all the way back down. 

As you slowly wake up, we talk about what to expect on this day. You are visibly nervous, but also excited. We find our parking spot and immediately notice the myriad of other students who are competing for the "President's Scholarship", which will be determined by your impromptu essay on this day. The other students are all dressed up... one kid was wearing a tuxedo. But we are DePoys, and I size up the competition as you smile, knowing who my child is and where she is going!

We line up inside and you take the registration packet. We find our way to the circular table surrounded by 150 other people as they administration welcomes prospective students. Blah blah blah, you each are the best of the best. Then they dismiss you each according to your chosen academic majors. Nursing - Health and Human Services - exit left. 

You leave independently as I kiss your forehead. And you're off to flex your mad skills as a writer. The prompt for your essay is: "How has your high school prepared you for this college, and what will you take away from what you've learned."  You begin to write about your experience in student leadership. The Hope College next-generation of leadership development. You write about being nominated as a team captain for Cross Country, and all of the responsibility that comes with reluctant leadership. You weren't screaming for attention, you just lead by example. 

By the time you return, I'm sitting at a table with other anxious parents. I note how beautiful you are in comparison to the other students, and how you walk into the room with such confidence. You shrugged when I asked you how it went, and assumed that it went "pretty good I think." We listen to a few more faculty presentations about choosing the university that is the best fit for each particular student. I couldn't agree more... the more we walk the campus, I become more comfortable with the idea of you spending the next four years here.

We are dismissed for lunch, and make our way to the massive cafeteria. There are assigned tables for our dining, so we set our stuff down and scatter through the myriad of buffet options. Once we've inhaled the delicious food, you fold up a piece of paper and challenge me to a game of table football, flicking the paper to the edge of the table for a point. Then kicking the extra point, I win. Ashlyn calls and interrupts our game, asking for my assistance. She is on her lunch break at HHS and puts me on speaker phone to play "Would you rather..." with one of her classmates. Apparently I'm talking loudly because everyone around us looks over to me while I ask ridiculous things like, "Would you rather fall down a flight of stairs and land on your eye socket, dislodging your pupil and leaving you concussed - O R ...." 

After the final faculty presentation, we choose to take an unguided tour of the campus together. It's just you and I, wandering around an otherwise empty campus. It's Friday, and it seems like everyone has left for the weekend. I watch you as you casually stroll down the sidewalk, across the corridor, and into other facilities across the campus. We walk through open doors and empty hallways, disappointed that the Starbucks is closed for the day. Across the yard is large library with several floors... We walk inside and all around, getting a feel for the vibe on campus. It appears that there are a lot of places to hunker down and study or read or rest. We don't talk. We walk in silence, and I can tell that you are trying to imagine what your life would look like on the average day, if you were to attend this university. I'm having flashbacks of your toddler self, the way you used to absorb information and ponder new experiences. When you were little you were so believing and trusting and curious and even now, it translates to a young woman who is willing to walk across Switzerland and travel independently and snowboard off the reservation and get lost in the wonder and the wander of it all...

After a full day of walking, we finally retire to the Mazda. "One more thing..." you said. "We have to drive 7 minutes away to explore the campus of Delta Community College." So we type in the GPS and take the country road leaving Saginaw Valley State University. Upon arrival, we turn down a long driveway and realize there is a road that literally loops around the tiny campus, with a row of single-floor buildings. This is where Jacob would be living and attending his college classes. You've got it all planned out. As we drive, it doesn't take long to realize how inexplicably small the campus is. We couldn't even identify the on campus housing... You are trying to envision how Jacob would feel here, seven minutes from where you would be studying. It occurs to me that there's not a single concern that you two haven't discussed and analyzed at length. 

As we exit toward the highway for our return home, I look over at you as you stare out at the cornfields in late autumn. It's quite here, and a fairly straight highway back to your roots. 

"Ok, so... what are your thoughts?" I ask you. 

"I like it! I don't know what Mariah was talking about (her criticism of the outdated campus came as a point of confusion to us), this is a really nice campus." When I ask you if this is where you feel confident about committing to, you answer with the kind of practical conservatism that exposes your maturity: "It depends on if I win the Presidential Scholarship."

A few minutes later, we have continued to drive in reflective silence. You've made an awesome playlist for us to listen to on Spotify. I ask you how you're feeling after a long day of exploration. I was expecting you to confess excitement, or uncertainty, and perhaps a sting of fear of moving into the next state of your life. 

You answer quietly, "Old." 

I nodded, with empathy. I said, "Ask me how I'm feeling." 

You looked over at me and said, "Ok dad, how are you feeling?" 

I echo your answer. "Old." 

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Finishing the Course, STATE FINALS!!!

 Although your little diesel heart is running on fumes, you knew this was your last battle. It has been bittersweet and nostalgic for you to stretch out and warm up with your team... lining up with your sister and knowing this was your last dance together. 

You mentioned that you had emotionally checked out a long time ago, but you had been selected as the team captain, so you felt obligated to put on a smile and encourage the others around you. Keeping up the Dutch Spirit for the sake of team unity was more important than your own immediate desires. 

The entire community showed up for paid parking to watch the regional invitational at Allendale High School. We found your tent, but by the time we arrived you were already stretching out near the start line. 

So Teresa and I split up to cheer you on at different vantage points along the trail. Grandma Judy (and Keegan!) followed along, and my dad hobbled to the faint, white, spray paint line to anticipate the runners flying by.

A golf cart turns the corner first, inevitably followed close behind by Emma from West Ottawa. She's the best runner in the state, and has already received a scholarship to Michigan State University next year... then a couple more runners closely behind her. 

And there you - flying around the corner, always near the front of the pack! 

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So here's the deal. You don't appreciate it now, but one day you will. You feel my love bombs and perhaps a little invaded by my aggressive cheering. But one day you will always remember that your dad had your back 100%, and that since your birth I have been your BIGGEST FAN! 

As you were running by, I yelled: "Give it everything you've got. This is your last race; leave it all on the field. Nothing left! I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!"

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Something must have snapped inside of you, 3/4 of the way through the race. You turned your speed up to an eleven at the risk of blowing your diesel engine. But it kept beating, and with every step you separated yourself from the others. You kept passing people, until the final leg approached the grand stand bleachers. I had already been waiting for you at the finish line. In my mind I had this idyllic vision of you collapsing into the arms of your father, like a movie scene. 

I had to squint. 

Wait.

Is that...?

Ambria!!! 

You were flying toward the finish line, setting a season PR, with nobody around you. You had distanced yourself from the others, and left it all on the field. *Literally. 

And in the end, your coach Meagan came over with your timer and enthusiastically shouted, "You made it! You made the state qualifier! You're an individual runner, representing Holland at the STATE FINALS next week! 

So there you were, surrounded by friends and family - finally getting the honor you deserve. It was a bittersweet moment which meant that you had to rally yet again for one. more. race. 

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Friday Night Lights!

 This has become our favorite season for so many reasons. But this season in particular... Jacob has been absolutely incredible on the football field. Every Friday night we gather and scream and jump and clap and watch as he scores touchdown after touchdown!

Now my dad and mom are getting in on the action! We sit in front of Daniel and Melissa and all high-five while Jacob runs his way to All-Conference! I'm proud of him, for so many reasons!

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The End of The Beginning

Driving to church the other day, just you and I. I looked over at you and see the little girl who used to follow me around with this big, hazelnut eyes. You were so trusting, so courageous. If I asked you to jump from a cliff into my arms, you wouldn't hesitate. If I encouraged you to climb a mountain in your first few steps... you would give it your best effort - until you'd reach for me to carry you. I remember sitting on top of the Blue Ridge Parkway from a mountain overview, holding you up to see forever and ever. 

And now, as we drive... you are quiet. One word answers. I'm trying to get you to open up. I ask you open-ended questions in an effort to engage your heart. I'm realizing this is the end of the beginning, because in just a few months you will be turning 18, and then I'm afraid I'll hardly ever get to see you. 

Would you still come around to see us, simply because you enjoy our quality time? Will you miss our talks and our movie nights and family dinners? What will become of our summer trips to Torch Lake and cabin rentals over New Year's vacation? Would you ever call me just to say hello, and/or "just because"? 

I asked you to reflect on your final year of school. I ask you two questions:

What are you most proud of?

 You answer, the determination to finish Cross Country, despite a growing hatred of the competitive running. You are so burned out on the exhausting course, and yet - as team captain, you decided to finish strong for the sake of the team morale. You maintained a positive vibe, and encouraged your teammates. You also referenced your pride in finishing the first semester of your senior year which was "brutal" taking a college course as well as running in Cross Country. All of this while maintaining a 4.0 GPA. 

What are your regrets? What would you change?

At first you said, "none." But we both know, that's not true. I think you regret trying to so hard to be in the circle of friends that have proven to not care about you. You've lost sleep over being left out, and you gave up trying. 

We all have regrets. I told you that I live with a small journal full of trophies and pride. And then I have a bible full of regrets. I would have should have could have been a better father, husband, son, and friend. I have to live with the scars. And I have a choice now to live with the mistakes and try to move forward with more humility and wisdom. 

I asked you who you think might get married first - you or Mariah? 

"Ohhhh, I have no idea!" you said. And I predicted it could be the same season! Mariah is now dating Blake and they seem really happy. I just want all of my daughters to be treated like the queens that they are!

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Days Like These

On this hot, late summer afternoon, you finished your homework. You then surprised me with an inviting question: "Driving Range?" 

I'd often asked you if you'd like to join me, but it was usually met with a declination. But last week there was a picnic at Victory Point and one of the activities included chipping golf balls into the pond. You made a few solid connections, and I think you even surprised yourself. 

So we immediately dusted off my golf clubs and headed to Wallinwood near our house. While we were walking out the range, you said, "Jacob and I went golfing the other day, and I almost beat him!" This didn't surprise me because golf is a game of grace, and you have a lot of it! I also liked the idea of you two going golfing together, because it's a great activity for couples to laugh and have fun. You seem so mature and in love with each other and honestly I'm happy for you both,

While we smacked golf balls all over Jenison, I couldn't help but watch you. Making adjustments. Shuffling your feet. Switching clubs. Giggling. 80% of your connections sliced in an unintentional direction... but occasionally you would absolutely destroy the drive and watch the ball sail through the air. I noticed that you love to be affirmed by your dad, so I was your biggest cheerleader. You were rocking your new $100 sunglasses and commented that they had a lifetime guarantee. "Just don't lose them, kid." 

I loved our time together today. I know we don't have many more opportunities like this. You'll go back to school for your senior year, then sports, then college, then I'll rarely see you. And I'm already sad.  

Mozambique, a Jesus Revolution!

Ok, it's time to get real. 

When the invitation to follow Jesus to the margins of civilization was extended, you nudged Adeline and informed her that you felt God calling you, so you were going to sign up. 

Adeline nodded, "me too."

A few weeks ago you, Mariah, and a few of your friends joined the Overland Missions crew to embark on an expedition through the rural poverty of Mozambique, Africa. We had heard reports of islamic threats to the Christians, but you were souled out on the mission! Leaning into the mystery of martyrdom and evangelistic fire, you packed your things and disappeared for two weeks.

There was radio silence. We waited and prayed, for any kind of response... How were you? I trusted that God was holding you in His care, but I also know that "the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church." 

Finally, a text came through from Dan Peerbolte. He confirmed what I already believed to be true... that my daughters were warriors and pillars of faith in a dark world. Specifically, "Ambria may be quiet, be she is a LION when it comes to preaching the gospel!" 

One story that trickled back to us: After experiencing resistance from a certain family, and teen girl in particular, you felt so burdened for her. She was not receptive to your invitation to surrender to Jesus, and she refused to take off her charm necklace (an indigenous witchcraft). You could not sleep that night, and kept picturing her face... two days later you felt so burdened to return to her, that you marched back to the village to hunt (see also: LION) her down. 

But this time, she had a totally different disposition toward you. She was happy, kind, and receptive. She reported through a translator that she had actually experienced healing two days earlier when you had prayed with her, but she had too much pride to say anything. Now she was ready to receive. She repented and trusted Christ. You led her in the prayer of salvation, and after she accepted Christ, YOU SOBBED UNCONTROLLABLY because God had spoken to you, and you heard from Him, and trusted His leading! 

Then next day, the young woman's boyfriend came to find you. He had heard what had happened and now he too, wanted Jesus! So you took him out into the water and baptized him into the Kingdom of God! You went from door to door, village to village -  p r e a c h i n g  and singing and dancing and  p r e a c h i n g and performing and acting and praying for healing and testifying and loving and loving and loving and loving the beautiful people of Mozambique!

Praise God for this experience, and the bonds that were formed with your Missions Team! For Dwight and Betsy Beal, Dan and Rose Peerbolte, Adeline and Piper, and Kylie and of course your own sister Mariah who gave witness of your witness, and testified of your testimony! 

Bury me now, a happy man. A father who has realized his deepest dreams to be true. My daughters are walking with Jesus, and preaching the same gospel message that had been handed down to me from my dad.  

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Old Friends + New Friends

The past year has been divisive in both hurtful and hopeful ways. It seems that you former friends have all drifted from indifference to intentional distance, and through it all you've been resilient. The sporting events and powder puff and cross country and soccer - sure, they are acquaintances and sometimes friendly. But they have not proven to be real friends. 

Meanwhile, you're leaning into your family and Jacob. You have picked up a summer job waitressing at the Paisley Pig making "bankkkkk", and you are about to start working at Bouws Pool in the city of Holland. 

And by God's grace, you have become very closer to Adeline - a new friend from Victory Point Church. Together you have met for coffee, purchased new bibles, and you're going on a Missions Trip to Mozambique, Africa! She has been a much-needed reprieve for you during this season, as your heart has been longing for a   t r u e  f r i e n d.

Last night before leaving our house from Memorial Day weekend you shared the recent news that you have been "canceled". When I asked for more details, you explained that you had posted a note on Instagram about people who take their senior pictures posing next to their care "are either hick, or black." And although that's probably true - in 2024 you will get blasted for being a "racist." 

You were astounded, (partially because it came from Lauren, a black girl in your school that you once ran to hug after her boyfriend broke up with her); everyone knows that Ambria DePoy is the furthest thing from a racist! 

Perhaps the real reason for so much toxicity from your former friends is because of their jealously of your life. Your world travels, your beauty, your family, and your boyfriend. They see you as "goals." and instead of being happy for you, they throw shade. 

So today, at Jacob's last baseball game, you're going to confront Lauren and explain the truth of the matter. I am proud of you, and I grieve from a distance as you experience the pain of shallow characters around you.  

Varsity Soccer - Diesel DePoy

One thing is clear: there is an abrupt transition between JV and Varsity Soccer! There is a sizable difference between the athletes in the evolution of development. Where you once stood out as one of the best players on the field, you're finding yourself battling for a position in the lineup. 

A couple of weeks ago we could all hear your Coach Sitehammel literally screaming at the team to play harder and better. And then last week he made it personal. He called you out by name in front of the whole team, and criticized your efforts. 

Now, I know you. And I know that you are not used to being yelled at. And I you've never been publicly humiliated. And I definitely know that you will not respond well to being disrespected! You can handle coaching and instruction, but not through being called out and criticized. 

After the game you met me at half field with tears in your eyes. (It's been a long time since I've seen you cry!) After inquiring, you explained that you were "so sick of your coach. He's so mean!" His vocal criticism was very hurtful, and unprofessional...

Well, nobody makes my daughter cry! You continued to walk away across the field while Coach Sitehammel approached me. I met him directly with a confrontational tone - that he needs to speak differently and watch his tone when addressing my daughter! I told him that you are receptive to instruction but not disrespect, and that if he needs to provide coaching critique, to pull you aside and talk privately. He agreed with me, apologized and promised that he would not make that mistake again.

On Saturday, I drove up to Traverse City to watch you play in a tournament. In the beautiful sunshine, you started at left wing, and played with enthusiastic energy and a surge of confidence! You played with speed and aggression, making crisp passes and almost scored on a couple of occasions. On one particular play, I captured video footage of you racing to the ball and beating out the opposing defender...

I love watching you excel, especially when you turn on that diesel engine and slam your way through the victory! 

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Junior Year - Prom

 This time of year always brings the joy of nostalgic moments; new beginnings with the spring flowers. After a long, cold winter the sun has finally appeared, and the grass is green and the birds have returned and the tulips are exploding in Holland. 

And there you are, walking down the sidewalk with a few friends. You are absolutely stunning, and the whole world is waking up the from the slumber of your late arrival. Teresa spent the last few hours straightening your hair and helping you get all dolled up... 

And Jacob met us at the Dimness Chapel at Hope College. Daniel and Melissa were there snapping pictures and we all gathered around to watch the pinning of the flowers and the sacred poses. There was a quiet stillness as we all recorded and took pictures, almost like people were in church and didn't want to interrupt the stillness of the kairos moment.

After our family pictures, you and Jacob joined your friends at the Grand Ravines Park and took more photographs before a dance dinner in Grand Rapids. Teresa slipped you $30 dollars to make sure you were not stressed out, and then you would eventually make it back to attend your junior prom!

I tell you how pretty you are and you nod. Like, "yeah you're supposed to say that." But I don't think you realize that I see the beauty of your character, and your heart for God. I see the little girl who used to want me to hold her as we climbed the mountains together... I see the best friend with whom I sat in Jackson Hole on the side of the mountain because you were frustrated and couldn't ski down the icy slopes. I see the adventurer who got lost in Switzerland and ended up with German tourists on a random bus with a chocolate cupcake in your pocket for emergencies. I see the confident woman who walks down the sidewalk like a princess in full knowledge that her Heavenly Father owns this world. 

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