Dear Younger Me,

Hey. I see you sitting there, feeling like you don’t quite belong, like maybe you’re invisible. I know you’re searching for something to make the ache disappear, to quiet that inner storm. You’re drawn to the energy around you, the music, the lights, and the pulse. You’ll think that losing yourself is the answer. But listen carefully—one day, you’ll realize it was never about escape.

Hold onto this: there’s no room for hate on the dance floor. There’s no space for fear, for shame, or for the emptiness you feel right now. Those places, the nights under neon lights, aren’t meant for hiding. They’re places of freedom, connection, and belonging. And one day, you’ll find your place in that world—not as someone fading into the shadows, but as someone standing proud, your spirit unbroken.

You’re going to face challenges that feel like they might crush you. There will be choices that lead to dark roads, where you’ll struggle with loss, pain, and addiction. You’ll spend years trying to fill a void with anything that might silence the hurt. But here’s what I want you to know: none of that will ever define you. Even when it feels impossible, you are stronger than you can see right now.

You’re going to step into spaces where hate, pain, and judgment have no power. You’ll return to the music and the lights, and this time it’ll be different. You’ll make your way to the dance floor not to hide, but to celebrate every part of who you are—the girl who faced darkness, who thought she might lose herself, but who found the strength to stand tall. You’ll create your own beat and make your own way. Your heart will beat to a rhythm that’s pure and real—your rhythm.

Even when the world tries to pull you down, remember you are loved and worthy of all the joy and freedom that life can offer. You’ll find peace where there was once chaos and purpose where there was emptiness. One day, you’ll dance, no longer bound by the shadows. You’ll be free, whole, and fearless.

Stand tall, girl. The world is waiting for you.

With all the love you’re still learning to give yourself,

I am the version of you who overcame. I am the version of you that is currently healing. I am the version of you that didn’t let the pain become me. I I wanted to tell you I love you. I wanted to tell you that you are enough. I wanted to tell you that you have a purpose. I wanted to tell you you are not what happened or what will happen to you! I wanted to let you know that you are not your present, past, or future, but you are what God called you. I wanted to tell you the pain will be worth it. I wanted to tell you that I am healing for us, for you, for our family. I wanted to tell you it was for a purpose. I wanted to tell you that God loves you. I wanted to tell you to keep your head high. 
 
I want you to know that what you do from here on out may be rooted in pain, but you are going to change. You are going to heal those versions of you that were broken. You are working towards loving people. Don’t give in to life’s circumstances. You will always overcome because you are strong. You can’t be broken, so do not wallow in your hurt. Push forward. You can heal. Never let any battle deter you from walking your path. Take a break if you must, but keep going! You are beautiful. You are smart. You are worthy of love and blessings. Don’t worry because I got you! God had you in every season of your life, whether you felt him or not. It happened for a reason, and you are still God’s child. You are still pure!
 
You will change your family’s generation. You will break generational patterns. You will heal areas no one has touched, and because of that, suffering will be there. Grief will be present. Loneliness will stop by, but you will forever be protected, cherished, and loved by God. Despite the pain, keep going. It will get brighter, and so will you. I love you! 

You’re not stuttering like you used to; well, I guess still you do
But it isn’t what we’re used to.

You’re not going nonverbal… well, I guess you still are.
But that’s okay; we know it now, and sometimes it’s cute.

But really?

You’re not sitting in a corner drooling,
Like the doctors said, you would.
Every specialist and therapist was sure,
of the quality of life to be lived.

Keep speaking,
Keep learning,
Do your reading and writing, too.
You know these things help you.

It’s okay to cope, but don’t forget to breathe.
This world is scary, but you can be full of glee.

And hey…
I’ll keep protecting the girl you never got to be

Dear Younger Me,

I know how hard it is. The world around you seems so big, filled with voices, laughter, and sounds you want to join, but can’t. You have so much to say, but it feels trapped inside, like you’re watching life from behind a window you can’t open. There’s frustration, sometimes sadness, and a worry that maybe others won’t understand you.

But I want you to know something beautiful: you will find your voice. It will take time, patience, and moments when it feels impossible, but slowly, those words will come. One sound at a time, then words, then sentences you’ll start to share everything you feel. You’re building a bridge to the world, one that only you could build, and it will be worth every step.

Overcoming this challenge will shape you in ways you can’t yet see. You’ll understand what it feels like to be unheard, and that understanding will make you compassionate. You’ll meet others who struggle, who feel lost or different, and you’ll be able to reach them because you understand. And one day, you’ll stand in front of others, using your voice to make a difference for those who feel unseen.

So keep going, little me. Take each small step, and know you are stronger than you think. You’re on a journey that will make you powerful in ways you can’t even imagine, and the world is waiting to hear what only you can say.

Dear Becky,

You’re loud now.

That seems ludicrous from your position. Right now you’re small and shy and you listen to your teachers. You don’t talk back; you don’t try to think outside of your bubble. From where I’m sitting I know it’s because you’re afraid of failure, of shame in the face of our father’s angry disappointment. You’ll get over that.

But you’re loud now. You have opinions and you share them. You laugh at stupid things. Honestly sometimes it’s concerning what gets you giggly, but you’re not worried about looking foolish in public anymore. You jam out at your work desk to silly songs and rock ballads and musical numbers, and you don’t care who spots your horrible dance moves as they walk past. You dance in grocery aisles, in full view of other patrons! You laugh at yourself and don’t mind when others laugh when it’s all in good fun. You’ve embraced being silly and dorky without any concern of your pride or ego being bruised. You dress in bright colors, in clothes that make you feel good; gone is the all-black wardrobe. It’s not nearly as flattering a color as people would lead you to believe.

You’re loud now, and you’re better for it. We spent too long hiding in corners and behind our insecurities. That’s not to say some of them aren’t still hanging around and probably always will. But you’re louder than them now, you drown them out with your smile and your laugh and a confidence that, at one point, seemed truly unattainable.

Your anger is louder too, but that’s a good thing, I promise! Because it’s not just your anger that’s louder. Your happiness is too. Your joy, your curiosity, your empathy, the whole spectrum of emotions breathes deep in you now. You feel things. You let yourself feel things, even when they’re hard. It’s not perfect – nothing is – but it’s further than you thought you’d get.

It’s kind of funny when I tell people what we used to be like. “I didn’t talk,” is usually how I start my explanation, trying to paint a picture of this shy bookworm who strove for perfect grades and wouldn’t dare talk back for anything. You’ll get there, I promise, to that point where mingling with strangers doesn’t make your skin tight and your stomach clench anymore. Where you know that your voice not only can be heard but should be heard. To where standing up to even the most intimidating of authority figures is a challenge but not an outright impossibility.

You’re loud now. You take up space in people’s hearts and minds, in the world around you. It’s chaotic and frustrating and frightening, but you’re not hiding from it anymore. You’re not going back. You’re loud now and you’re going to keep the volume up.

Love,

You, Cranked Up To 11

Dear little me, I’m sorry I hurt you.
But I don’t wish to take it back-
Because God likes taking trash, and recycle/reform…
He Loves you more than ever. I do though wish
I could have told you that-
While you were still…A fine strapping-young lad!
You know what they say, A chip off the ol’ block…
You had no regrets…without even a pair of socks!
You were so happy! Please forgive me,
I’m 45 yrs. old now-but you’re still crying inside of me…
it’s kind of embarrassing sometimes young Timothy.
But it’s also ok, Because you’re facing all this
stuffed down in your past-where high enough couldn’t exist…
You know you can come out of the waiting room now young man.

You now have gone, from beer, TV, and the old lady,
To Beautiful wine, woman, and song-Even though it’s really just grape juice…
On high demand at her command!
It’s ok, I got to get back to work-I’ll speak more when I’m done.
But yet till…Thank you for forgiving me…That’s your Super Powers!
And it’s all A-ok, Please believe me-that Super Power is in you!
You wouldn’t want doubt to steal it away from you, would you?
No way! for you’ve finally found your Savior, Shepherd, and King…
Jesus Christ the Holy Righteous One-never let your bad go to far,
in anything.

Do wish though-I could of told you then,
But you know man…I knew not then myself.

Love-your wife and kids’ hero.

*The glory of children are their fathers*
*And a Virtuous wife is the crown to her husband*
…Holy Bible

Hey, by the grace of God, you survived to tell this story. It’s interesting what a piece of ice can do for one’s life; how a piece of ice can be used as such a valuable reminder to not panic. You were so young, not even in the double digits yet, if memory serves me well. You were in the kitchen drinking Kool-Aid that was chilled by ice cubes. Sometimes in drinking, one will capture a piece of ice in the mouth and play around with it, enjoying the coolness and the hardness, before spitting it back into the cup.

That is precisely what you were doing and it was something you’d done many times. However, this time was different. One of those ice cubes got lodged in the back of your throat, immediately making it difficult to breathe. A sense of dread grabbed hold of you, even more so, because you were home alone. “What do I do?” At the onset of panicking, you calmed down and collected yourself, dumping the remaining contents of the cup into the sink, before turning the faucet on for warm water. It was as if you were a completely different person (this calmness something you would later attribute to mercies of the Almighty God). You allowed some of the warm water to fill part of the cup and, once done, tilted your head backward and dumped that warm water down your throat in hopes of melting the ice that was stuck there.

Thank GOD. It worked. There was some soreness after, but you lived.

You probably never would have guessed the volumes this would speak to you in the future. It is a story that you often remembered and sometimes told. It helped you through a very difficult time in your life, during and after the loss of Papa and, coincidentally, it is now serving a purpose once more for you today. No, not today in an all-encompassing sense, but today, October 31, 2024.

May the essence of this story echo throughout the rest of your life when it gets overwhelming and you have many reasons to panic.

Peace be.

Dear Younger Me,

I know that you’re carrying a weight that feels unbearable—a pain that you haven’t shared with anyone, maybe because you’re afraid they won’t believe you, or because it hurts too much to say aloud. You’re trying to protect yourself, piece by piece, from a world that has hurt you in a way no one should ever experience. You feel scared, lonely, and maybe even ashamed, but I’m here to tell you: you didn’t do anything wrong. This pain isn’t yours to hold alone, and it doesn’t define you.

I want you to know that healing is possible, even if it doesn’t feel that way right now. There will come a day when you look back on this moment, not with the same pain you feel today but with a sense of strength and pride for having survived it. That inner strength will help you move forward, piece by piece, as you learn to rebuild trust—in yourself and in others.

You’ll come to find people who support you, who understand your story, and who will help you on the days when the memories resurface. You won’t feel this burden alone forever. Therapy, self-care, and the support of people who truly care about you will help you learn how to live again, free from the shadows of what happened. And through it all, you’ll become someone who has a deep well of empathy and resilience, someone who uses their experience to bring compassion to others who have been hurt too.

It’s okay if the healing process is messy and complicated. There will be good days and hard days. But one day, you’ll recognize how strong you are for surviving. You’ll learn to love yourself again and to embrace the parts of you that you felt you had to hide. You are resilient, worthy of love and respect, and you have a future full of hope and healing waiting for you.

When you’re ready, reach out to others for support. You don’t have to face this alone. There’s a whole life ahead, one where you reclaim your happiness, your peace, and your sense of safety. Know that I’m proud of you, just as you are, and that you’ll grow into someone who is courageous, compassionate, and whole.

With all my love and strength,
Your Future Self

Dear Justin Barnes,

This letter is to travel to the past to where you are in your time. In the future, I wanted to thank you for a challenge you will eventually overcome. One that has put many halts on improving your heart and soul. You will realize that the world is not as scary as it should be. You were born with some trauma, as many other people do in this wild world. This world is full of hardships and failure. There are a lot of disappointments and embarrassing moments. However, this letter is not about that; instead, it is a challenge you will eventually overcome that will change your perspective on those mentioned earlier. A challenge that I have endured and overcome in the future is the challenge of risk-taking. You are probably scared and believe that this is illogical, as I know myself better than anyone. I know you will be objective and that this sounds dramatic. Taking risks is a part of life; if we do not push our limits and risk failure or rejection, we will never learn or better ourselves. I played it safe when I was your age. I could have become a doctor, experienced new perspectives and cultures, learned new ideas, and even learned to be a better husband than before. If there is anything that you should take from this message, please take risks. Even if they hurt you, as you will learn in the future, it will better you. You will become stronger, wiser, and more intelligent as a result. More opportunities will occur as a result of this. Do not mistake this message as a message of regret and unhappiness. You will become something great. Maybe even something greater will happen in the next five years. With all this said, what do you need to do? The answer is nothing because if you change, I change as well. Just know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel and that one day, you will have the opportunity of your dreams, a lovely wife, house, children, and even the profession of your dreams. Just know when the time comes in 2015, begin to take those risks as it will change your life, and those 22 years of uncertainty and depression will melt away. You are destined to overcome this challenge, so fear not, and your time will come.

Sincerely, your future self.

Dear LG,

Some things were easy for you, while many other children have struggled. You learned how to read when you were two years old, and you do not remember a time when you did not know how to read. 

You do not remember struggling. On the first day of school, you were the only kid in your kindergarten class who could already read.

That is impressive and I am so proud of you! What is even more amazing is learning a skill you struggled with and have since overcome.

Jump roping.

Kids usually learn it when they are in kindergarten. You tried and failed at that time. The other kids and adults called you clumsy.

You felt discouraged. 

You stopped trying to jump rope that year. And the next year.

Then, one adult believed in you: your second-grade teacher.

She threw you in with the kindergartners as they learned how to jump rope and encouraged you as you tried to learn.

You towered over the other kids in your second-grade class, let alone the kindergartners. You felt awkward.

The kindergarteners and their teacher cheered you on as you jumped and tripped over the rope hundreds of times.

Eventually, it all clicked. You learned how to coordinate your jumping in perfect timing with the swinging of the rope.

You were so proud of yourself, you just kept jumping and laughing happily.

Not only did you learn jump roping, you became an expert in the third and fourth grades. You joined the jump rope club with the girls and you jumped double dutch with ease. You also loved swinging the two ropes while the girls jumped in.

You were in your happy place.

Sometimes you will forget what you have overcome in your life and then remember that seemingly simple story of learning to to jump rope.

It was something the other kids took for granted, and you struggled to overcome.

And you did it!

You don’t know this, but this little life lesson – failing hundreds or even thousands of times before succeeding – will take you far in your life.

You will write the first 50,000 words of novels and then scrap them because they were ideas that failed.

You will write other prose that meanders.

You will craft rhyming poetry that does not quite flow.

You will not stop trying to write something that suits your style.

You will find your big break, one way or another. When you do, it will be a spectacular victory.

I believe in you, LG. My younger self who will never, ever quit doing what they love. You will always live inside me.

Since I was three, I’ve seen life a different way. 
Fighting a battle, undefeated to this day
Cancer took half my sight but didn’t take my vision. 
And I wouldn’t change a thing if I had the decision. 
Living this way has taught me a lot. 
You don’t need to have it all to give it all you’ve got.
Never thought that I would get this far.
From the passenger’s side to taking over the car
Used to shake in my skin; now I’m calm in the face. 
Old fears couldn’t catch me if they picked up the pace.
Thinking of my breakthrough, I’m more than amazed. 
Through Christ, I can do all things, and He will be praised.
God gave me this life because He knew I was worthy.
And I thank Him for His everlasting grace and mercy.

Dear Younger Self,

You won.  Your jabs, tricks, and schemes worked and knocked her down..again and again.  She fought a good fight and hung on to her friends no matter how bad they were.  Was it because she had low self-esteem?  A bad self-image?  All created by you projecting a melting image of herself that shone onto every event in her life?  So you could feel better?  Nobody saved her.  Nobody came to her aid.  She lay there, water rippling over her body..porcelain reflections on the now flat lukewarm surface.  The you now would like this.  The me now HATES this.  The me now needs to live with those memories and shove them away, blaming them on youth, bad parenting, and low self-worth.  But I can’t help but wonder younger self, if we could have saved her, by being kinder.  

Hand on stomach and heart,
Older self

Dear younger me….

We made it. You made it. Remember those countless nights of huddling in the corner of your bed, tears streaming down your face telling yourself it’ll be okay? I know you didn’t really believe it, but turns out everything was okay. You always believed that depression and anxiety were going to be lifelong struggles. If you’re reading this right now wondering how we made it through, here it is.
Here’s your story…..our story:

Growing up in a religious home, you always strived to follow God. But bad things still happen, even to Christians. From years of abuse and trauma, you began to suffer from severe anxiety, depression, and suicidal thoughts. You ended up in foster care twice, in multiple foster homes with the fear of people growing intensely. Well past your breaking point, you were hospitalized several months later after a suicide attempt. You went through different periods of self harm, driven by depression and death. As life progressed, no matter what happened or what you achieved, nothing could take the pain away. You lived in such a state of grief that there seemed no way out. But there was always a constant in your life. God. You lost your way over and over again, but He kept seeking you out. Every time you tried giving up, God pulled you from the clutches of darkness. You wouldn’t be alive right now if it weren’t for Him. As you stumbled along the way, He called you to move several states away to a church you had only visited a few times. With anxiety gripping at you, within a month you had moved over three hundred miles away. That simple step of obedience revolutionized your life. As you surrendered your life to Him, there was a breaking as you were completely submerged in the waves of His Grace. Immediately chains of darkness began breaking off of you. The depression, anxiety, fear, suicidal thoughts. Broken off of you and God restored you to Himself. You were baptized for the first time since coming a Christian and then baptized in the Holy Spirit and receiving the gift of tongues! Several months later you had ministry time that brought freedom and a repentance to demonic strongholds in your life. Today you are on a praise team, finished your schooling and currently headed for college! You’re studying special education, music, and multimedia communications. The only reason you’re alive today is because of God. Every life changing moment, every new freedom, every breath you take is because of His loving mercy. Oh how He loves you! So guess what, hun? You made it! This is your story. This is your testimony. You’d be so proud of yourself! But while you’re going through life, read this letter and know that it really will be okay.

You got this!
Signed, Older You

Younger Me,
I know you’re feeling overwhelmed, lost in the maze of questions and emotions that come with being adopted. The weight of not knowing your biological parents sits heavy on your heart, and the world seems to demand that you embrace your adopted parents with a love that feels forced and foreign.
But let me tell you something profound: the love and acceptance that you seek will find you in the most unexpected ways. We grew through this. We found our way through the labyrinth of confusion and pain, and emerged stronger, with a heart that understands the true essence of family.

The stigma of our origins and the emptiness of not knowing our birth parents were shadows that haunted our early years. We faced the judgment and the whispers, the sense of being different. But in the process, we discovered that our story was not one of lack, but of abundance. We learned to love our adopted parents, not because we were forced to, but because we saw their humanity, their efforts, and their genuine care for us.

It’s okay to feel conflicted, to question, to grapple with the mixed emotions. These feelings are valid, and they shape you into a compassionate, understanding person who knows that family goes beyond bloodlines. It’s built on trust, kindness, and shared experiences.

In time, you’ll see that the love you give and receive is real, not because it’s expected, but because it grows from the seeds of understanding and acceptance. Our adopted parents might not be perfect, but neither are we. And in that imperfection, we find room for forgiveness, for growth, for genuine connection.
So, hold on. Embrace your journey, with all its complexities. The love you feel might not come in the way you expected, but it will be real, and it will be yours.

Be kind and gentle to yourself and do all things with love,
Older Me