Torn, Injured and Healed

A Story of God’s Relentless Love
for Two Broken People

“Come, let us return to the Lord.
He has torn us, that He may heal us;
He has injured us;
    now he will bandage our wounds.
² After two days he will revive us;
    on the third day he will restore us,
    that we may live in his presence.” —HOSEA 6:1-2

Acknowledgement: Several have reached out to me asking for updates and to offer encouragement. This post is long. I attempted to divide it into three separate posts, but it felt disjointed. Pardon the length, but it contains the story of God’s activity in the lives of two very broken people over the past two months. By the way, Janet has read this post and agrees with and celebrates the content. She just encouraged me to try to make it shorter.
(Babe, I really did try… Honest, I did.)
We share this as a means of expressing our sincere gratitude to God and appreciation to all of you for your thoughts, love and prayers. God is always good and forever faithful.

On March 25, 2022 my personal world came crashing down.

I knew there were stress fractures. But I didn’t realize that the fractures had become fault lines, and the lines were starting to shift, eventually bringing an “earthquake” that would rock my personal life and family at a magnitude of more than 7.5 on the relationship Richter scale.

That Friday evening my wife of almost 39 years left. She later called saying, “I didn’t want to do this on the phone. But I’ve left you. I’ve hired a lawyer. I’m divorcing you.

“You’re controlling. You’re manipulative. Thirty-nine years of emotional abuse is enough…”

Perception is stronger than reality. This is how my wife honestly felt.  

I was stunned, devastated and confused as I stood in the chaos and aftermath of the debris still swirling around me by this quake.

My wife didn’t walk out on our marriage due to any single, catastrophic issue. She didn’t leave because of:

• adultery
• addiction (alcohol, drugs or porn)
• abuse (physical or verbal)

Solomon once wrote,

“Catch all the foxes, those little foxes, before they ruin the vineyard of love…”
—Song of Solomon 2:15

The death of our marriage was “death by a thousand paper cuts.” It was the slow, painful, cumulative damage and devastation brought on by one too many seemingly insignificant problems, coupled with years of distraction, busyness, work-a-holism and neglect.

Both of us felt the distance. Both of us were in significant personal pain. Both of us continued to wear our masks. We often wore them quite well. But inside we were dying, and we knew that our relationship was on life support. On March 25, my wife reached the point where she refused to wear a mask or play charades any longer. 

The next week I received a letter from Janet’s attorney indicating that she had been hired to seek “the dissolution of our marriage,” and that I should also acquire legal counsel.

Despair began to settle in as I contemplated the end of life as I had known it for more than 39 years.

For the next 39 days, Janet only communicated with me via text or email, and only occasionally at that, to discuss financial matters (bills and obligations). We never talked on the phone or in person. After almost 39 years of marriage and 41 years of life together, this lack of communication felt like a kind of solitary confinement.

Finally, on Monday, May 2, Janet agreed to meet with me in person, but only in the presence of a group of three people she brought along with her to sit across the outside meeting area from us while we had a brief 35 minute conversation.

That conversation was ineffective at best. While my wife was kind and courteous, it was obvious that she was also cautious and skeptical about the personal work I had been doing over the last almost 40 days.

The meeting ended with me asking for a “grace period” or a “pause” on divorce for three months while I continued “working on me,” addressing issues that had concerned her for some time.

She indicated that she would consider it, but wasn’t making any promises. We talked about limiting all communication, including texts and emails, and calls to once a week. On Mondays.

However, on Thursday, May 5, otherwise known as Cinco de Mayo, not even four days later, I received a phone call and an email from the individual I would later hire as my attorney, indicating that Janet’s lawyer had emailed him and that she was proceeding with divorce. She didn’t want to meet with me or talk with me. Any and all communication should be directed through our attorneys. Needless to say, this wasn’t a day for Margaritas, even the non-alcoholic kind.

Now, the quake had reached 9.2 on the relationship Richter scale. I was shattered.

I managed to somehow make it thru an important meeting I had that evening, but wondered if my world could survive this kind of devastation.

Mother’s Day Weekend 2022

That weekend was Mother’s Day. I knew our three daughters would be celebrating with their Mom. They should. After all, my wife has always been a terrific mother and an incredible Gigi.

I bought her a card and a flower arrangement, and then tried to prepare myself for my first Mother’s Day without my wife, my mom (who had passed two years prior), and my mother-in-law (whom I hadn’t spoken to since all of this turmoil began).

When I later learned that the entire family — all three girls, two husbands and three grandkids were getting together, and I was the only person in our family who wouldn’t be attending that Saturday evening get together, another quake hit. This one felt like a 9.4 on the relationship Richter scale. I was completely crushed. I felt lost in the debris of what once had been.

That night I went to our empty loft and binged on pizza, popcorn and a couple of pints of Jeni’s Splendid ice cream attempting to eat the pain away. None of it helped. Throughout the evening the sadness and depression only deepened.

I cried. I called a friend and fell completely apart.

The next morning I woke up. It was Day 45 of our separation. I somehow managed to get through my morning Bible Reading plan and then, for the first time since the tremors and quakes had begun, I googled, “painless ways to end your life.”

Yes, I googled it.

I was six pages into that google, when a new friend called — a pastor I had met at a small retreat for pastors in crisis just days before.

I answered this unknown number only to hear, “Chris. It’s Pastor Dan Stallbaum. I had you on my mind and knew I needed to call.”

For the next few minutes, Dan poured God’s love, care and kindness into me. He could feel my personal despair, even through a cell phone, so he told me about a Christian Mental Health Treatment Center with a 30-day program for pastors just like me. Dan said that he was 20 days into the program himself and believed it could provide me with some much needed help. Would I be interested in him calling the director?

Somehow, realizing just how critical my situation had become, I agreed. By that afternoon, I had spent an hour with the director of the clinic on the phone. The next day I spent an hour and a half with the program coordinator attempting to determine if I was a “good fit.” By that afternoon, believing that my marriage was over and that somehow I would have to learn to adjust to a new and unwanted way of life, I signed up to attend the 30-day program beginning the next Sunday,

Monday, May 9 was filled with the long phone eval convo mentioned above and a lengthy career consultation. Realizing that there were two important business items I needed to discuss with my wife before leaving for the treatment center, I wrote her three emails that I ultimately deleted without sending. In each of those emails I vented my anger and frustration for all that had occurred over the last 46 days.

Finally, I settled on listening to the advice of my counselor, and making my email short and direct and asking Janet to meet me at our favorite coffee spot in Birmingham at 6 pm to discuss these items. I honestly didn’t know how she would respond or if she would respond at all. Eight minutes later, she shot back an email. “I’ll see you there at 6.”

I finished my online career consultation at 5 pm. I quickly showered and shaved and put on my best white dress shirt and black dress pants, praying every second for some kind of change in our circumstance and situation.

I arrived early for the meeting. My wife pulled up early, as well.

When she got out of her car, my heart skipped, because even though this woman was intent on divorcing me, she was still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She was dressed in a cute black dress. Appropriate attire for a meeting that might end up being a funeral for the marriage that once was. She still looked stunningly beautiful.

I asked if she wanted coffee. She didn’t.

I had secured an outside table where I sat the flowers and card I had originally gotten her for Mother’s Day.

We walked out. Took our seats and sat down. Just me and her.

I can’t remember everything that was said, but I think I began the conversation by saying something like this:

“My counselor often quotes to me the lyrics of a famous Don McClean song.”

“They didn’t listen. They did not know how.
Perhaps they’ll listen now.” —Don McClean, Vincent

“Dr. Semon regularly tells me that I don’t listen… In fact, I don’t even know how to listen… But, tonight, I want to learn… I just want to listen.”

I don’t remember exactly what happened next. But what I do know is that for the next two-and-a-half hours my wife and I talked… We shut down the coffee shop and the burger shop next door, just talking.

We said “hard things” to one another — things that needed to be said, but they were said with kindness, care and respect. Incredibly, there were no hurt feelings, only understanding.

I asked if I could hold her hand. She let me. Later that evening she even let me hug her. I tried to sneak a kiss, but she kindly let me know, “Mmmm… That’s a little too fast and too soon.”

The conversation ended with her saying, “Okay, if we’re going to try to do this — try to heal our marriage and our family — we’ve got to do the work and get this right. We’ve got to take it slow.”

She indicated that she didn’t want to jerk the kids around and do anything that would give them false hope concerning our reconciliation. After all, we still had lots of work to do.

But, the overall feeling was that there was hope. There was promise. The first real hope I’d glimpsed in 46 long days. Maybe, just maybe, God could perform a miracle in our damaged and almost destroyed marriage?

Divorce was officially on pause.

On the drive back to the loft, all I could do was worship, pray and thank God for the conversation we had just had and for my wife’s commitment to press pause on divorce.

When I reached the loft, I continued to worship. Gratitude just poured out of me. “Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Jesus!” Followed by tears, laughter and even joy. Worship, prayer and spiritual language came flowing out of me. Even my dog, Dallas, looked at me as if I’d lost my mind, seeming to sense the emotional shift in the loft.

Everything in me felt like I might be standing on the precipice of a miracle. After all, my wife and I had just talked for more than 2.5 hours. That conversation will go down as one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given. To see her face. To hear her voice. To be given a glimpse into her heart. What a gift! What a God!

I went to bed that evening full of expectation and anticipation. Things were too good to dull my brain with the drain of television, so I laid in bed that night worshipping, praying, thinking, dreaming with eyes wide open. All of a sudden the thought hit me, “I wonder if Janet has texted me.”

Mind you, at this point, my wife hadn’t initiated any kind of communication with me for 46 long days.

But when I rolled over to look at my phone. Even though I couldn’t clearly see the words without my reading glasses I could make out enough to know that I had received a text from Janet.

My heart skipped several beats. I grabbed the glasses from the nightstand. Put them on and read these words:

“Hey. As you know Chelsea is picking up the puppy tomorrow and bringing him back to the house. You’re welcome to come over. I’m sure she’s trying to figure that out and that’s not fair. The kids need you to be there, too.”

Okay. I know her text was simple and pretty straight forward. “The kids are getting a puppy. You can come over if you want to.” But when I read Janet’s text, I read:

“My wife still loves me. She might even ‘like’ me. She’s initiating contact with me. She’s inviting me to spend time with her and the grandkids tomorrow. It doesn’t matter what else is on the calendar, if it’s in that time slot, it has got to go. This is priority.”

I quickly responded:

“Thank you babe. Thank you. Let me know when. I know you would want to be there too. Thank you for this text. And thank you for tonight. I was just praying for and thinking of you. Sleep well. Good night. BTW, you looked beautiful tonight. So beautiful. Good night. Again, thank you.”

Yep. I tried to initiate a little romance. “You looked amazing.” Hint. Hint “Did you think I looked handsome, too? Like, at all…?”

She wasn’t biting. She was firm in her determination. “We’re going to get this right.”

She texted back:

“Of course. You’re welcome. Our girls don’t need to feel the pressure of dancing around us. That’s miserable and unfair to them. And we’re grown adults. We know how to behave. I’ll take Jack and Lucy to school and then I’ll be with Rosie until I go pick them up. So you can come over anytime.”

I thought to myself: “Really? Anytime?” I tried to play it cool. “Well, I’ve got some appointments.” I think I actually had one. “But, I’ll do what I can and should be there by 2.”

After saying, “Good night” to one another, I continued to lay in bed worshipping, praying, thinking, dreaming and thanking God for what appeared to be a sudden and completely unexpected turn of events.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

The next day I arrived at Chelsea’s and Cody’s before Janet got there after picking up the grandkids from school. We spent the next 3.5 hours together with our grandkids. This is the first time we’d been with them together in almost 50 days. I was so nervous, but still feeling so very hopeful.

Janet was kind and gracious. She looked as beautiful as she always does. This time in jeans and a “Friends” t-shirt. I swear that woman could wear a brown paper sack and still look incredible!

After mustering up the courage, I asked if we could have dinner together. She hesitantly agreed.

We went to one of our favorite burger joints, arrived at around 5:15, ordered our food and sat on the patio. We both barely ate, because for the next four and a half hours we talked. And talked. And talked.  

We talked about the private pain my wife had silently struggled with for years. Pain I had no idea she was carrying.

We talked about the loneliness we both had silently endured, as we gave our best to ministry, and had very little left over for one another.

We talked about the assumptions and misunderstandings we had secretly carried about one another.

We talked about the emotional toll of 34 years of pastoring and almost 40 years of doing ministry together. Over the years my wife had privately grieved as she watched me become a shell of the man I once I had been.

We wept.
She wept.
That’s huge. Don’t miss that. She wept.

In the only email I received from Janet during our separation where she vented any of her personal pain, among other things she had written, “I can’t even cry in front of you…”

That night, she cried.
We both did.
She cried.
I cried.

We both repented of the pain that we had unintentionally perpetrated upon one another, upon our family and friends.

More tears. Good tears. The kind of tears that cleanse the soul.

“Where there is no vision, [a marriage can] perish…”

Eventually, we also began to talk about our hopes and dreams. Conversations that had long ago been shelved so we could tend to what we perceived as the necessities and essentials. Solomon was right, “Where there is no vision, the people perish” (Pro 29:18 KJV). Our failure to keep dreaming together was another one of the “little foxes” that almost destroyed our marriage.

That night we began to dream again. We began to dream about what life could look like…together. I loved hearing the girl I’ve been doing life with all these years share her dreams and vision for our future.

At some point, Janet looked at me and said, “We haven’t talked like this in years. This is what I’ve always wanted. It’s what I thought we would never have, but what I’ve always hoped and longed for. It’s the reason I couldn’t stay…”

We shut down the burger joint and the little shopping center again that night. Four and a half hours later, I walked my wife to her car, and she allowed me to kiss her. By this time, we hadn’t kissed in more than 47 days. It was probably closer to 50.

I felt like that 16-year old boy that had kissed that 14-year old girl so many years before. I think we both felt like teenagers. We were nervous and afraid. But we kissed. Again and again and again.

I told her I loved her.

The night before she had told me that she wouldn’t allow herself to say that to me. That she cared for me deeply, but she wasn’t ready to say that.

All of a sudden the words escaped, “I love…” Her words trailed off. Then she said, “See, I can’t help but saying it… I do love you… I always have…”

We were finally able to say, “Goodbye” and “Good night,” with an indication that she would be by the loft the next day to help me pack for our upcoming move. Our lease was ending at the end of the month, and I wanted to be completely moved out before leaving for the 30-day program at the Christian mental health treatment center.

Once again, all the way to the loft, all I could do was worship, pray and thank God for what was starting to look like a bona-fide miracle. God was doing an Ephesians 3:20 kind of work before our very eyes.

“God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.” —EPH 3:20 MSG

God’s Spirit was doing in us and for us what we could have never done for ourselves! God was answering the prayers of two very broken people. He was answering the prayers of our children, countless friends and even people long since passed, before our very eyes!

The next day Janet arrived at the loft in the afternoon, along with some good friends who were helping us pack and move.

We talked and worked until our friends had to leave that evening. Then, we talked even more. For hours and hours and hours.

If the conversation at the burger joint was a “9” on a scale of 1-10, the conversation that evening in the loft was a 12, 15 or maybe a 20. It was God “achieving infinitely more.”

The next four days were filled with more and more and more and more of the same.

Moving is some of the hardest work there is, but for some reason, it became an opportunity for Janet and myself to communicate like we haven’t communicated in years.

When I left Birmingham on May 15 to drive to Sanctuary Clinics, I left knowing that I had just witnessed God at work doing what He and He alone could do. We were living in a miracle of epic proportions.

Janet and I have continued to talk every day since May 9. Most days for hours. Yes, even while I’ve been at the clinic.

Both of us believe that God has begun a work of restoration and reconciliation in our marriage and family. We are filled with more love, faith, hope, dreams and expectancy than ever.

Yes, we’re both aware that we still have a long way to go.

We’re both aware that we’ve still got a ton of work to continue to do.

But we also believe — in fact, we’re thoroughly convinced — that we’re not doing this alone. For reasons only known to Himself, God has stepped into the lives of two very broken people and irresistibly drawn us closer to Himself and to one another than we’ve ever been before.

Recently, during my morning time with God the Scripture at the top of this post appeared.

“Come, let us return to the Lord.
He has torn us, that He may heal us;
He has injured us;
    now he will bandage our wounds.
² After two days he will revive us;
    on the third day he will restore us,
    that we may live in his presence.” —HOSEA 6:1-2

That morning, as I began to pray through and meditate on this passage, the following thoughts formed in my mind regarding the last two months.  

What if the Lord “tore us that He may heal us”?

What if God knew that we (I) would never make the course corrections necessary to live a rich, satisfying life and experience a thriving, mutually fulfilling marriage, so He did what we (I) could never do. He took what was most precious to me — my relationship with my wife —  to give me a glimpse of what the life I was so un-attentively living would eventually end up costing me?

What if God allowed the events that unfolded beginning March 25 because He had something much better in mind?

What if God wanted to show Janet and myself what He could do if we would truly lean into Him instead of relying on our performance, perfectionism, selfish demands and passionless existence?

What if God “tore us” to heal us?

What if God “injured us” so He could bandage our wounds?

What if God allowed our separation so that “after two days” He could “revive us”? So that He could awaken our souls to love, passion and life?

Scholars point out that the expression “two days” is a euphemism for “a very short time.” While it seems like eternity when you’re living it, 47 days is a relatively short amount of time.

What if God allowed the misunderstanding and pain in my marriage and relationship with Janet so that “on the third day He could restore us, raise us up or resurrect us” (See Jn 12:24), and make us – our marriage and family – completely brand new?

By the way, scholars are also quick to point out that the reference to “three days” can’t be disconnected from the fact that Jesus was in the grave “three days” before His triumphant resurrection!

What if, behind all of this tearing apart, injury, healing and restoration was God’s desire for us to actually — don’t miss this word — “LIVE” — “in His presence” (see v2)? 

Quite honestly, before March 25, we weren’t really living. In fact, Janet described us as roommates and bad roommates, at that.

The last two weekends Janet has visited me at Sanctuary Clinics in Monticello, Florida. The clinic has allowed us to go offsite each weekend to stay at a Bed and Breakfast in town and drive in for our counseling sessions, Saturday clinics and Sunday worship.

Both weekends have been filled with more romance, love, laughter and LIFE than I can describe. They’ve been filled with beautiful conversations that are such a treasure that even should I write about them, I’ll never share what I write. Some things are so beautiful and personal that they belong only to the people who experience them.

I would never choose to re-live the events before, the day of, or the days immediately following March 25, 2022 again. It was a living hell. That’s not hyperbole. It was a more severe and devastating kind of pain than I’ve ever experienced. Ever. But, at the same time, I wouldn’t take anything for the healing, restoration and “resurrection” that has followed in the days since. You see, I’m not certain we could have experienced “THIS” without going through “THAT”.

Hosea continues in verse 3.

³ Let us acknowledge the Lord;
    let us press on to acknowledge him.
As surely as the sun rises,
    he will appear;
he will come to us like the winter rains,
    like the spring rains that water the earth.” —HOS 6:1-3

Verse 3 is critical. “Let us acknowledge the LORD.”

Beyond Theological Boxes and Neat Little Answers

I don’t like “acknowledging” that God might have allowed my pain, feelings of isolation, abandonment and brokenness. It challenges the little theological box I’ve built to provide neat answers to troubling, sometimes unanswerable questions. But somehow, I see God working behind, in and thru the past two months.

I recently shared some of these thoughts with Janet and she texted me the following:

“With all my heart, I believe God allowed what happened on March 25. He knew our hearts would be crushed. He knew we weren’t truly living in His presence, because in His presence there’s fullness of joy. And there was no joy [in our lives or our marriage].

“But, He’s the one that drew our hearts to one another as kids. He knew that ‘what He had joined together no man could separate’ (Matt 19:6; Mark 10:9). The separation was our own doing.

“God knew how our hearts would respond, because our Father knows how deeply we desire to love Him. He was working behind the scenes the whole time, and we didn’t even know it. Completely oblivious to His activity because we were so lost in our pain.

“He had torn us, so he could heal us. He injured us, so he could bandage our wounds.”

Neither of us believe for a moment that God orchestrated the difficulties, pain, challenges, strife, anger, neglect and separation in our marriage. But we’re both convinced that God takes what the evil one meant for our harm, destruction and death and somehow uses them for our ultimate good and His great glory (See Gen 50:20; Rom 8:28).

What the evil one meant for our destruction,
God has somehow used for our ultimate good!

How would your life change if you began to “acknowledge the Lord”?
In every moment?
The pleasure and the pain.
The heartbreak and the healing.
The loss and the restoration.
The answers and the questions.

Further, how would your life change if you made a commitment that from this day forward you will “press on to acknowledge him”? That knowing Him — seeing Him at work in every nuance and detail — your sin and success, your wins and losses, your strengths and weaknesses — will become the magnificent obsession of your life.

Today, I’m thanking God for every event that was necessary to bring Janet and myself to a place of brokenness, healing and grace where we can grow to know Him more intimately and personally than we’ve ever known Him before. I’m also thanking Him for the opportunity to know and love one another in the same kind of way.

“Come, let us return to the Lord.
He has torn us, that He may heal us;
He has injured us;
    now he will bandage our wounds.
² After two days he will revive us;
    on the third day he will restore us,
    that we may live in his presence.” —HOSEA 6:1-2

The second half of verse 2 in the ESV reads, “He’ll raise us up.” In other words, “He’ll resurrect us.” The MSG reads, He’ll “…make us brand new.”

That’s exactly what God has done and is doing in our lives and in our marriage.

While we were separated, God challenged me by leading me to John 12:24. It reads as follows:  

“I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat is planted in the soil and dies, it remains alone. But its death will produce many new kernels—a plentiful harvest of new lives.” —John 12:24 NLT

I distinctly remember God saying to me that the marriage that once was dead and needed to be buried. Janet was never coming back to the same man or the same marriage. It was too heartbreaking. He challenged me to let that marriage die, to “bury” it, and then to trust Him to “resurrect” a new man and a new marriage.

That’s exactly what He is doing!

A new man and a new marriage

Please don’t misunderstand. I’m not saying we’ve arrived. But I am saying that GOD IS AT WORK! He has and He is resurrecting this man, that woman and our marriage!

Yesterday (June 7, 2022), I received two of the best emails and one of the best texts I’ve ever received.

At 8:48 I received an email from the individual I had hired to represent me in divorce proceedings indicating that Janet’s lawyer had asked the court to dismiss the case.

Just a little more than an hour later I received another email from the same lawyer indicating that the judge had entered an order dismissing the case without prejudice.

DISMISSED!
Janet Lynn Goins v Kenneth Christopher Goins
was no longer a reality.

Then, at 10:42 am, I received this text from my beautiful wife:

“…I got the email for dismissal from…my attorney.
“THANK YOU JESUSS!!!!! That is no longer our future. I love you so much. So, so, so, so very much my forever and always husband and best friend!!!!!”

Not only had God caused Janet to “press pause” on divorce, He had given new life to a dying or dead marriage! Only God! Only God! Only God!

From this day forward my heart is to live in such a way that I honor GOD and the beautiful gift of grace He has given me…

• by loving my wife well — as Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her (Eph 5:25),
• by becoming the man and husband Janet has always deserved,
• by being raised to be a new man who creates a new marriage with the woman I’ve always loved,
• by treasuring and cherishing her and every moment God gives me with her,
• by creating an emotionally attractive “home” that Janet always wants to come “home” to,
• by kissing her every morning, noon and night that God allows me to be in her presence, and,
• by treating her with such love, grace and kindness that she never doubts for a moment how deeply loved she really is!

NOTE: Several pictures included in this post were taken the weekends of May 27-28 and June 3-5 during visits with me at Sanctuary Clinics in Monticello, Florida. (By the way, I highly recommend the program and services SC provides. For more information, contact Dr. David and/or Dr. Sesi Hoskins, co-founders and leaders of SC.)

This Friday, June 10, we’ll celebrate 39 years together. We won’t get to actually celebrate together, as I’ll be finishing my last weekend in the program. We’ll observe this one long distance. On June 13, I’ll finish 30 days in the program, and the in-person party and celebration is ON! We’ll celebrate the God who cares enough about us to “tear us” so He can “heal us” and “injure us” so He can restore or resurrect us!

I can’t wait to “come home.”

Where is home? You might ask.

Home isn’t a place.
Home for me is a person.
Home for me is wherever the girl I married 39 years ago is.
Home is her heart and her arms.
I know. I know. Ultimately, “home” is Jesus! That’s not hyperbole or “Christian-eeze,” it’s reality.

But for this guy, HOME is also “the wife of my youth,” a girl named Janet Lynn Goins. She has always been and will always be “home.”