the defining moments

In this story of restoration the significant points are worth mentioning because, well, they are significant. I can remember specifically four of them. The first came almost immediately when I got back to Tennessee around my brother Brandon and his wife Pace. It took all of about a day I think, I remember riding in the car with Brandon going somewhere, can't remember where, but instead of a happy and fun ride I felt like I was the black hole. Sucking in all life and happiness and fun and killing it. Not at all on purpose, but because of the hurt I was trying to figure out on my own. Forced laughs, trying to be in the moment with my brother there in the car, but all I could think about was myself, France, and what the hell happened there?
Brandon and Pace are relentless and as I have described them in the past, my cheerleaders. They are for me in ways I haven't expected, none of it I don't think is out of the ordinary, but I have been encouraged by them so consistently to not settle for hum drum. This time was no different. Through awkward silences in the car and forced laughs from me, it finally came down to them inviting me over to see Afton, hang with them and just talk. They let me spill, they listened for over a half an hour, for me just to get the cobwebs out. They sat, listened, asked questions, made me be present there with them in that room and then just prayed for me. Both of them listening to the Lord, calmly, for me, nobody else.
Out of that time of them praying and me just sitting, the picture that came was a wall, a huge big foreboding wall that was starting to have the first signs of cracks in it. This was a good thing.
I had killed something in Sweden and this crack in this wall, this fracture in this unconquerable force was going to eventually lift off. I was feeling lighter though.
I would love to say that it lifted immediately, but I am glad it didn't, it is still coming off to this day.
From there I will describe three other events that were huge in this process. The second was hanging with an old roommate and good friend Ryan Wapnowski in Bellingham. He has always been a source of good conversation and just one of those people who carry peace, and life and love with them as naturally as water falls. He made me a few presents, as he is in the habit of doing and one of them happened to be a remarkable quote that he had written out and then read aloud to me. It was superb. One of the lines was about standing on the banks of a silvery lake illuminated by the moon and screaming "yes" to living and loving. I had to do this. After Ryan walked home with me, I got on my Softride bike and under a beautiful full moon I biked to the lake not five miles away. When I got there, standing at the banks in the freezing clear night I declared that I would not be controlled, I wouldn't lose one more day to this funk I was in and then yelled "NO" with all my might and an entire lung full of air, leaving in one huge noise in less than a second. I rode home lighter still.
Then five days later, February 6th 2007 I was to be in class, but I intentionally missed class, I think that makes 5 in my college career, to sit and write out what was going on in my heart and head. It took about an hour, but a part of what came out was this:
"For me to change has always meant that you [God] will sit there waiting with arms crossed for me to "fucking get it right. Hunter, this is as far from the truth as you can get., Jesus in you means I am with you always, I am changing you from in here. And thank you for that, but I want more, always. I want to be better for the people around me, I want to be better for this world, I want to bring life. My life life is being hidden by this dark cloud of self-importance. Does my desire need to change? No, my desire is to share with people hope and love and life, but only because I know that I was made for people, I was not made for myself. I was never made to isolate myself..."