The Lost Son and Me

Wounded Times

Kathie Costos

February 23, 2022

When I created this image of me, I was trying for something that looked more like an elf. It didn't work but I got a big kick out of it and decided to keep it. It made the point I was trying to make, that although my wrinkles, scars on my face, bags under my eyes and graying hair, make me appear to be mean, I am far from it. The thing is, people who know me, know what I am all about, and know my character, don't need convincing about that. Only strangers do.

When I wrote The Lost Son, people in my life saw parts of me in the main character. Christopher Papadopoulos is mostly the male version of me.

The scars on his body were reminders of what he survived but the scars in his soul were reminders of why he didn’t want to anymore. Chris Papadopoulos was tired of waiting for his life to get better while he grew more bitter. Tired of paying the price for covering suffering while working as a report for an LA newspaper. Tired of the seven years he survived the bomb blast that ripped through his body while covering the war in Afghanistan. Tired of watching all he had erode like the fire escape from his window.

Seven years was long enough. He sat on his bed with a gun in his hand while a war between hope and despair kept him from lifting the gun to his head. He gave up and went to the bar figuring that if he got drunk enough, he wouldn’t have to think about anything much longer.

Chris thought everyone he knew burned down the bridges between them and him. He couldn’t see he was the one with all the matches and his friends were trying to find the firehose. Chris was dismissing the fact he had PTSD. He was right about one thing. Seven years was too long for him to be suffering instead of healing, but God had other plans for him. That night, Chris was sent on a mission to save himself and millions of others when he discovered a secretive society changing the world one soul at a time.

This is for the "churchless" children of God so you will know, that miracles do not come from a church, but they come from God.

Like Chris, I survived an attempted murder when my first husband came home from work one night and decided to beat me. He almost killed me. He stalked me, just like Chris's wife did to him.

Chris wanted to become a Priest in the Greek Orthodox church, so did I but, as a female, that was never going to happen. Later in life I was told I missed my calling and should have converted to another denomination they would let me preach. I became a Chaplain instead. My church does not support women in ministry, so I felt as if there is no place for me there.

Chris didn't know he had #PTSD and thought he would just get over it. I thought the same thing too. After all, I had devoted 40 years of research, writing and helping other people discover how much power they did have and nothing to be ashamed of as survivors of whatever caused it. The problem is, just like Chris, I turned it into a contest that I didn't want to win. So many others over the years, had it a lot worse than I had it. My panic attacks, mood swings, flashbacks and nightmares, only came to life when I heard the sound of a muscle car, because that was what my ex-husband drove. 

Like Chris never read anything about someone like himself, I never read anything about anyone like me. I survived over 10 events beginning at the age of 5. I saw two therapists and neither of them diagnosed PTSD. I dismissed what I was going through because it didn't happen all the time and did not rob me of a good, happy life.

Chris wanted to become a reporter. I always wanted to be a writer. When Chris started to heal he began to write a book to help others heal too. He wanted them to be able to read about people just like them so they would know they were not alone and their lives could be better. I wanted the same thing and tried through three other books, over 700 videos and countless articles on this site, as well as others. I wanted to tell the truth as much as I wanted to offer hope.

Chris spent 7 years regretting he survived because he thought everyone he knew walked away from him and God sent the suffering to him. On September 13, 2019, seven years after a bomb blast changed his life and caused the nightmarish series of events, he decided his suffering should end. So did God, but God disagreed on how that should happen.

In 13 days, he was led out of the darkness he had been living with, to enlighten the world of what was possible when miracles walk in the door, when he least expected them. Within 6 months, he wrote a book about miracles workers in a secret society of Chaplains and a miracle worker named Mandy living in a cabin in Gabriel New Hampshire. As for me, I wrote 3 books in 6 months because I prayed for a new way to say what I've been saying for 40 years. No one should choose to stay in darkness when the road has been cleared to make it into the light of God's love, even without a church.

Most of the people I helped all these years, believe in God and Jesus, but no longer felt they belonged in a church where they would be accepted. These books are for people like me. It is important that they see what is in the Bible and the beauty of it without feeling as if someone wants to beat them over the head with the Bible they refuse to read, instead of emulating what Jesus said His followers should actually be.

The books are on Amazon, Kindle and Paperback