By Black Sheep
I would never have chosen what my family has been through.
I would never have chosen the harassment, the threats, the strain on my wife and children, or the day our home was firebombed.
But Philippians 1:12–14 asks me to consider a difficult question:
Can something worthwhile still come from circumstances that should never have happened?
Verse 12: What happened did not stop the message
Paul tells the Philippians that what happened to him has helped advance the gospel.
He is describing the spread of the Christian message through circumstances that restricted his freedom. That is the passage’s meaning. My own experience is different, but I find something in his response that speaks to where my family and I are today.
He can still see a purpose beyond what has been done to him.
That matters to me.
Over the years, I have raised concerns, documented events, made complaints, and sought answers. There have been times when the process itself has been exhausting—when trying to be heard has taken energy I wanted to give to my family, my work, and my future.
Yet those experiences have also given me something to speak about: the human cost of harassment, the importance of taking threats seriously, and what families live through while waiting for institutions to respond.
I cannot claim that every effort has produced progress. Some questions remain unanswered.
But I can keep an accurate record. I can explain what we experienced. I can ask questions that deserve a response.
And I can hope that sharing our experience helps someone else feel less alone or seek help sooner.
Verse 13: A person is more than the circumstances around them
Paul says his imprisonment for Christ has become known among the palace guard and others.
What strikes me is that his circumstances have not erased what he stands for.
I know how difficult it can be when allegations, disputes, and other people’s descriptions begin to dominate the conversation about your life.
You want people to see the whole person.
I am a husband and a father. I am someone who has spent decades exploring, discovering, building companies, and trying to contribute. I am also someone living with PTSD and trying to find a constructive way forward.
My family deserves that same recognition.
My wife has her own career and responsibilities. My children have their own hopes, education, relationships, and futures. They should be able to live those lives without being reduced to supporting characters in my struggles.
The attack on our home in January 2026 brought that into sharp focus. My daughter and I were inside. We received hospital treatment after smoke inhalation.
Whatever remains unresolved about responsibility, the consequences for our household were real.
Reading this passage reminds me to hold onto our identity beyond those events. We are a family with a future still to live.
Verse 14: Courage can reach beyond one person
Paul describes other believers becoming more confident and more willing to speak God’s word because of his imprisonment.
That is the part that gives me hope.
I hope that speaking honestly about our experience might encourage another person to document what is happening, ask for support, or raise a concern they have been afraid to raise.
I cannot say that has already happened. But it is a purpose worth working toward.
For me, courage also means being careful with the truth: distinguishing what I witnessed, what the records establish, what someone told me, and what I suspect.
Strong feelings cannot fill gaps in evidence. If I want others to take my concerns seriously, I have a responsibility to make those distinctions clear.
I can pursue accountability with determination and still leave room for facts that challenge my understanding.
My family’s suffering is not a price I get to spend
There is something I need to say plainly.
Finding meaning in hardship does not make the hardship acceptable.
My wife and children did not volunteer to become an example of resilience. I cannot tell them that a possible benefit to someone else makes their fear or exhaustion worthwhile.
They deserve safety, peace, and time together that is not dominated by complaints, correspondence, or the next troubling development.
If I take a lesson from Paul’s persistence, I also need to ask what persistence looks like inside my home.
Sometimes it means continuing the work. Sometimes it means putting it down and being present with the people I am trying to protect.
Both require discipline.
What comes next
I do not know why we have faced all of this. I will not pretend to know God’s purpose for every event.
What I find in Philippians 1:12–14 is hope that hardship does not have to end our ability to contribute, speak, or encourage others.
I still want answers. I still want accountability.
I also want to build again. To use my experience. To explore new ideas. To see my family enjoy ordinary days without fear taking up so much room.
What happened to us is part of our story. We still have a say in what we do next.
For me, that means telling the truth as carefully as I can, seeking strength in faith, and remembering that the people beside me need my love and attention as much as my determination.
— Black Sheep
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