Secrets come in all sorts and sizes. Sometimes, they are as sweet as an engagement ring in a nervous boy's pocket. Other times ... they threaten to shatter your very self. With those kinds of secrets, it's difficult to judge if keeping it or telling it is more damaging. For years, I believed telling my secret was far more dangerous than anything imaginable. I was wrong. My daddy was one of the finest men Allen County, Tennessee ever produced. His brother, Hollis, was a devil from hell. I could never bring myself to tell Daddy or Mama the truth about what Hollis had done, and I was sure God counted me just as guilty. So I carried it inside and never told another living soul. Except for David Lee. Until that summer Phil's daddy died. Then everything unraveled.

An encounter with her changed his future. An encounter with God changed him. People don't set out to fail. Sometimes failure happens spectacularly with plenty of notorious attention. Other times, it comes quietly, almost with a sigh of relief. When my wife asked me for a divorce hours after my father's funeral, only the timing was a surprise. I believed the failure of my marriage from beginning to end, along with heartache it caused, especially to my father, was unredeemable. I was wrong. My father was one of the finest men I ever knew. He left me a great example and a cherished legacy, one I couldn't run from, no matter how ashamed I was to face it. Every step I took brought more trouble, though. In those months after my father died, my uncle Nolan helped me discover I needed to make peace with a lot more than Phil Shannon's memory. So I did what any prodigal would do. I decided to go home. Deciding to go is one thing. Getting there is another matter.

DECEPTION LEFT THEM BROKEN. ENCOUNTERING GOD LEFT THEM UNDONE. Idols are rarely ever the little statues we imagine. Sometimes they pass themselves off as a genuine, legitimate need—a need to be seen, to be valued, to be loved. When my hidden idol was exposed, it became David’s shame, too, except his came mingled with betrayal. I believed the damage to him and to our marriage was irreparable. I was wrong. My father taught me that I was insignificant. That lesson was difficult to unlearn. I was certain that my husband and even God Himself felt the same way. However, when the idols and the masks and the lies were stripped away, only the truth was left. The searing, relentless truth. About myself, about David, about God. And the truth set me free.