In August of 2013, I was transporting my young son to the Oregon coast when, approximately three hours into our journey, I suffered a severe stroke. I couldn't call for help. I couldn't even pray. My son's quick thinking is what saved my life that day.
Two weeks later, during a hospital visit, my son told me something I'll never forget — he said he wasn't alone in the car. An angel was with them. That moment changed everything for me, and I made a commitment to God right then and there, despite doctors telling me I'd never fully recover.
“It's not just about reclaimed wood — it's about reclaimed lives. It's evidence that all things are possible through God.”
Over time, as I healed, I began working with reclaimed wood. Each piece became part of my recovery — physical, emotional, and spiritual. Then a friend named Bonnie, after asking for prayers during her husband's heart attack, suggested we open our home as a church on Sundays.
The name Reclaimed2 came naturally. It's not just about reclaimed wood — it's about reclaimed lives. It's evidence that all things are possible through God.