About
I'm Ruben.
I'm a pastor, a husband, and a father who lost his oldest son. Everything I do here came out of what that cost me and what got me through it.
I lost my son in a tragic car accident. I was a pastor at the time, and for the first year and a half I did everything I could to hold my faith, my family and my congregation together — all the while ignoring my grief.
I couldn't hide it anymore and knew I needed help, so I decided to reach out. With the help of a Christian coach who not only understood my grief but understood my faith, he gently walked alongside me in my pain.
He helped me realize just how much trauma was actually stored in my body and mind from the day my son lost his life, and reminded me that I wasn't going crazy, or losing my mind, or losing my faith. He validated not only what I was going through, but my faith and hope in Jesus.
Romans 5:3–4 takes us from "just believing" the hope we have in Jesus to "confidently knowing" the hope we have in Jesus. We are called to endure — but unlike the world, we endure with hope.
I no longer hide or deny my grief and my pain. It is not a lack of faith. Instead I am allowing it to strengthen the hope I have in Jesus, who will do what He promises to do: redeem all things for His good.
So now when I am asked how I am doing, I don't have to pretend by saying "good," because there are days when I am not good. Instead, I let them know that I am enduring with hope.
That's what I want for you.
Why I'm the one saying this
For eight years I pastored, most of it as a campus pastor. I sat with people through deaths, divorces, addictions, job losses and quiet crises of faith — hundreds of those rooms. Then I became the one in the room who couldn't say it out loud. I know both chairs.
That's also why I work with people in ministry. I preached for a year and a half after burying my son and told nobody what it was costing me, because I believed that admitting it would disqualify me. It didn't. Hiding it nearly did.
I'm honest about what I'm not: I'm not a therapist, I don't diagnose anybody, and this business is new even though the work isn't. What I can promise is that I've been past the point of holding it together, and nothing you say is going to make me flinch.
