Oh God, I prayed. Please give me the courage to go through with this. May your will be done in this situation. May you supply me with the strength and the wisdom to say the right things and obey your spirit as I listen to what he has to say in return. I pray that you will guide me to the right Bruce Miller as I begin the search. Amen.
Three weeks passed and four hundred Bruce Millers later, the search was narrowed to two prospects: Bruce A. Miller and Bruce C. Miller. Included in the narrowed information was seven addresses and one phone number.
“I think I’ll construct a letter and send it to these seven addresses, what do you think, Trent?” I asked, the strain of all this emotion etched across my face.
“I’m not so sure this is such a great idea,” he began. “I mean, let’s look at this from a logical point of view.” How does he do that? He was always thinking logically. “We don’t know this man, but we’re willing to give him our address, email, and phone number?”
Trent’s wisdom and discernment always astound me. He is a beacon of masculinity and strength, much needed assets in my life. It wasn’t until I was sixteen that I encountered the first positive male influence in my life and if it weren’t for Albert and Ann Maxwell taking me in under their wings I may never have been given that gift. It was hard in the beginning; I felt unworthy of such love, but God has shown me otherwise over the years.
“You’re right. I guess I’m tired and need this ordeal to be over.” I sighed.
“I’ll just rest on the new information a bit, pray about it, and see where God leads me.” There was distance in my voice as I spoke and Trent could feel my desperation as I passed by him.
God, please let her find this man, her dad. Trent’s unique way of prayer was often mistaken for the “off in space” far away look. Please let her suffering be minimal and quick, if any. God your mercy is plenty and rich and we are in need of it now. May your will be done. Growing up in Fort Worth Texas, family was very important to Trent. His mother and father have been married for forty years. Growing up without a father was something he’d never even considered until he met me. He often said I had something he had never seen before in a woman. He said I was simple and happy; that I had nothing, yet everything. I had introduced Trent to God. He had been familiar with Him, growing up in a Methodist church. He was baptized at thirteen, but it wasn’t until he met me that he knew what it was like to have a real relationship with God. There was something missing in my life that he couldn’t fill and it pained him to see me hurting.