A New Season: A Robertson Family Love Story of Brokenness and Redemption

Introduction

Many people would look at the photo on the cover of this book and think, That couple looks really happy. They would be right. We’re unbelievably happy. But we have not always been. Our life together is amazing, but we have had to fight for this amazing. As individuals and as a couple, we have walked through betrayal, abuse, abandonment, adultery, fear, shame, sadness, and loss. All those circumstances, and the brokenness they left in their wake, have now been redeemed in the most wonderful ways. We have seen God use each of those situations to teach us lessons we might not have learned any other way and to equip us to offer compassionate encouragement to others in similar circumstances. We have navigated lies and deceit and have emerged with the firsthand knowledge that truth really does set people free. We have endured pain we thought we could not bear and ended up in places of healing and strength we never dreamed possible.

Our life today overflows with joy. One of the best things about it is that we have had countless opportunities to share what we’ve learned with hurting couples—some on the brink of divorce. When couples come to us to talk about their failing marriages, they often say things like, You won’t believe what kind of trouble we’re in, or What one of us has done is so bad we’re afraid you’ll send us away when you hear about it.

We tend to respond by glancing at each other with a knowing look that says, "If they only knew what we’ve been through!" As we tell them about the mistakes we’ve made, they realize we have learned some lessons that may help their marriages have a happy ending instead of a tragic one. By the time we finish sharing our story, most people don’t feel so bad about their own problems or negative behavior. Instead, they sense a spark of hope that gives them the courage to try to work things out, even if they have tried many times before.

We wrote this book to share a powerful message of hope, reconciliation, and redemption that rose up from the huge mess that was our marriage. We know from personal experience how miserable and broken individuals and relationships can be. We also know the depth and power of the redemption God can bring to situations that seem hopeless.

At this writing, we have thirty years of marriage and almost fifty years of living under our belts. One of the hallmarks of our lives and our relationship is reconciliation. Simply put, reconciliation is the idea that things and people that are broken can be put back together. What has been torn apart can be rejoined. On the back side of reconciliation, people often end up stronger, healthier, and wiser than they were before. Reconciled relationships tend to be more honest, more loving, and more committed than they were prior to falling apart. That’s certainly what happened to us, and we know it can happen for anyone struggling in a difficult marriage today.

Reconciliation is the idea that things and people that are broken can be put back together.

In our situation, we endured several kinds of brokenness, so we needed reconciliation on several levels. First and foremost, we both needed to be reconciled to God. We also needed to be reconciled to each other and to our family. No matter what people go through—whether it’s addiction, rebellion (there’s plenty of that in our story), marital problems, or some other type of broken relationship—the answer always begins with being reconciled to God. Once your relationship with Him is right, everything else eventually falls into place and healing begins. And one of the beautiful by-products of healing is the opportunity to help others find reconciliation in their lives. The apostle Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:18 that Christ has given us the ministry of reconciliation. That’s something we take seriously. We live lives that are reconciled to God and to each other, and now we share that reconciliation every chance we get.

We are honored that you have chosen to read this book. In it, we have been as honest and vulnerable as we know how to be. Parts of our story are intense and we write about them with transparency, hoping others who have been through similar situations will recognize us as fellow pilgrims on a journey that is not always pretty. At the end of each chapter, we take a couple of pages to look back and share the lessons we have learned through bad decisions or circumstances beyond our control.

Our prayer is that anyone caught in the same situations we once faced will be able to learn from our experiences. We also hope that as a result of this book others will be able to avoid some of the disasters that nearly overcame us. Someone once said, Experience is the best teacher, but we say that someone else’s experience is a better teacher! We truly hope our experiences will help individuals and couples avoid some of the heartache we have endured.

Freedom means being able to hold your head high instead of feeling weighed down with shame all the time.

Our message to you in the following pages is this: No matter what someone else has done to you or what you may have done to yourself, you can move beyond it. Nothing in your past has to keep you from an incredible future. Jesus says, All things are possible, and He’s talking to you. That means freedom from any bondage that has you entrapped. It means healing from any physical disease, mental condition, or emotional trauma that has had an impact on you. It means the ability to live in truth instead of feeling you have to continue to keep secrets. It means being able to hold your head high instead of feeling weighed down with shame all the time.

We want you to know that whatever you are going through right now, life can be good again. It won’t happen overnight; it may take months or years of learning to live in wholeness one step at a time. But we are living proof that it can happen. We hope and pray our story will inspire you to believe that for yourself and give you the encouragement and practical advice you need to start walking in a new direction, toward a brand-new season of strength, blessing, and joy.

Chapter 1

THE BEARDLESS BROTHER

My frame was not hidden from You,

When I was made in secret . . .

Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.

And in Your book they were all written,

The days fashioned for me,

When as yet there were none of them.

—PSALM 139:15–16

AL: People frequently associate the men of Duck Dynasty with long, bushy beards. My dad has one, my brothers all have one, and my uncle Si has one that is a little bit lopsided so it won’t interfere with his shotgun. Not me. I’m often called the Beardless Brother.

I have not been featured on our television show as much as my brothers have, especially Willie and Jase. My first significant appearance on our family’s television show came when I had the honor of officiating my parents’ vow renewal in the premiere of season four. I have heard that episode brought tears to the eyes of a lot of our fans, especially those aware of the hardships my parents endured during their early years of marriage. My mom definitely suffered, and from the time I was very young, I had an up-close and personal view of her struggles and her courage. I witnessed things no one else saw in those days in the late 1960s and early ’70s. Maybe that’s why leading my parents in that beautiful service by the river meant so much to me. Sure, being on television was fun, but standing before our family and friends and seeing my parents so in love and so committed after almost fifty years together—some wonderful years, some horrible—brought me true joy and happiness.

When I do appear on Duck Dynasty, I usually play the role of mediator, voice of reason, or go-to person when someone has a problem. Not much different from the way I function in our family in real life! At a young age, I found myself needing to shoulder a lot of responsibility, and as the big brother to three younger boys whose father was gone a lot, I became a leader in my family. With the exception of a season of foolishness and wild living, I have been a leader ever since. From time to time, though, I do still like to irritate my brothers for fun. Only an older brother can do that in love, right?

Having grown up as the son of the Duck Commander, I definitely know how to make a good duck call, and I enjoy being in a duck blind as much as the other men in my family. Though I am part of our family business now, I spent many years of my professional life in church work and ministry. That, and the fact that I’m clean shaven, sets me apart from my dad, my brothers, and Uncle Si in the minds of our audience. Those things have also made me a little mysterious, so in this chapter I want to give people a chance to get to know me, the Beardless Brother.

A LUMPY MONKEY

You may be aware that my mom, known as Miss Kay, got pregnant with me before she and my dad, Phil, were married. My mom turned seventeen on December 21, 1964, while she and Dad were living in Ruston, Louisiana, where he attended Louisiana Tech University. I was born at Lincoln General Hospital in Ruston on January 5, 1965. I guess I could say that, at just a few days old, I made my media debut in a local newspaper photo with Mom because I was the first baby born in Lincoln parish that year. Obviously, if five days of the New Year passed before a baby was born in the parish, the population was not exactly booming.

Mom was so young and inexperienced that she thought babies were like puppies—she didn’t know my eyes were supposed to be open.

Unfortunately, I was not what people consider a beautiful baby. I had to fight to make my entrance into the world and was finally delivered by forceps, which made my head lumpy. In addition, the forceps slipped during my birth and hit my left eye. The eye did not open for three weeks! Mom was so young and inexperienced that she thought babies were like puppies—she didn’t know my eyes were supposed to be open. All of this resulted in my uncle Tommy’s giving me the nickname Lumpy Monkey.

Our young family spent a lot of time with Uncle Tommy and his wife during my first few years because he and my dad were both in college and Dad was a star quarterback. I will always respect my mom for finishing high school with a newborn and a husband who felt more comfortable in a duck blind or on a football field than changing diapers. My mom has written about this time in our lives in The Women of Duck Commander, and Dad wrote about it in Happy, Happy, Happy, so I will not go into detail. I will just say it was a very rough time for all of us. My dad was the way he was—which was very challenging to say the least—and my mom stuck it out.

JUNCTION CITY

When I was four years old, Dad graduated college and we moved to Junction City, Arkansas, where he took a job teaching and coaching at a school while working on his master’s degree. Mom worked for the superintendent of the school system, and with both of my parents employed by the school district, we were able to live in a house on the school campus. Later that year, Jase was born.

In those days, in a small town in Arkansas, there was no such thing as day care or Mother’s Day Out. My parents had to work, so they found someone to care for Jase and enrolled me in school. Even though I entered first grade at only four years old, I was somehow able to handle myself socially and academically with six-year-olds.

By the time I was in third grade, life was wonderful for me. We still lived on the school property, which meant the whole playground was available to me whenever I wanted to build forts, zip down a slide, or swing on the monkey bars. In addition, the nearby cemetery proved irresistible to me as an adventurous, imaginative, all-boy kind of kid. I do not remember ever being afraid of much. In fact, I was infatuated with fire and even jumped into a pile of smoldering debris in our local dump, burning both my feet. Apparently, I didn’t learn my lesson, because on another occasion, I took a running leap into a pile of dry leaves—not realizing they were actually covering a lower layer of leaves that had been reduced to embers—and burned my feet again, resulting in major blisters for days.

We had no money for doctor bills in those days, so whether I had burned feet or one of my many cuts and bruises, Mom or Dad did the best they could with it. I’m sure Mom had a habit, like many mothers, of kissing things to make them better, and I remember Dad taking a needle and thread to stitch together some of my most gaping wounds. Things like that might be appalling to people today, but they characterized the way we lived.

BAD COMPANY, GOOD NEIGHBORS

During that time, Dad had some hunting buddies who were not good influences on him. He began to spend more time drinking and carousing with them and less time at home with us. So, of course, my parents’ marriage became more difficult than it already was, and Dad became abusive. His abuse was mostly verbal, not often physical. I did get spanked on a regular basis, but I have to admit that I deserved most of those spankings.

As our family life deteriorated, I began to feel responsible for certain things. In a way, maybe I felt I had to be the man of the house because no one else was filling that role. I definitely cared about my mother and hated the way she was being treated, but she handled these less-than-ideal circumstances with great strength and courage. Mom was very aware of her need to work in those early days and help provide for our family. I think she learned early that she would always have to carry a heavier load than most women, as she tried to be there for her boys and work to make up for Dad’s deficiencies. She had an inner strength and knew that she was able to be both parents when Dad wasn’t around. She took care of Jase and me, but I also took on a caretaking role for Jase. Even at that young age, I understood intuitively that our family situation was bad, and something in me wanted to look out for my little brother.

I had no idea that someone—or Someone—had been looking out for me too. I now know that God had an amazing couple in place to help me after we moved onto the school property. Back then, I just thought they were nice neighbors. This preacher and his wife, Brother and Sister Layton, were probably in their seventies. They came to meet our family as soon as we moved in and quickly befriended me, almost adopting me as a grandchild. By that time, Sister Layton had been blind for about twelve years, but that did not stop her from making cookies and Kool-Aid for me almost every afternoon and telling me Bible stories while I snacked.

The first summer we lived in Junction City, Brother and Sister Layton took me to Vacation Bible School at their church, and I had a great time being with other children, playing, and learning about God. They also took me to church every Sunday and every Wednesday night. I had no idea then what a crucial time that was for me: the Laytons were laying a foundation that would sustain me for the rest of my life, as they helped me learn basic biblical principles, characters, and stories. They made it possible for me to have a meaningful connection with God and church, and I was the only person in my family who had any kind of spiritual relationship at all at that point. I look back now and realize that my mom has always had a tender heart for God, but during those years she was simply doing her best to survive. Since Dad would not go to church, she did not go either.

My dad has always had a great personality, and people in Junction City loved him because of it. But they also knew he was a drunk, and his reputation suffered. He held his job at the school for about three years, then quit when he realized he was about to be fired because of the way he was living. I do not know exactly what all was going on at that time, but I do remember asking him if he would take me hunting and he said, No. When I wanted to know why, he told me he might have to take off running from the game warden. He meant it. He was doing some illegal things in his outdoor activities, but I did not understand that at the time. Though I could not have articulated it, I did perceive that all he really wanted to do was hunt, fish, and drink and that having a family was a drain on his lifestyle. It was not a happy time.

NO PLACE TO RAISE A FAMILY

When Dad quit his job at the school, we had to move. He found work managing a bar outside Junction City, and we lived in a trailer next to the bar. This decision made a big statement to his Christian parents and siblings that he was committed to his lifestyle of drinking. By that time, Willie had come along, so all five of us—two parents, three-year-old Jase, newborn Willie, and me—lived in a one-bedroom trailer with a tiny living area and a kitchen so small we could hardly turn around in it.

Dad got into a serious altercation, a real fracas, complete with ambulances and police cars, which resulted in his taking off into the woods running from the law.

Once we moved from the school property, the Laytons no longer came to pick me up for church. Thankfully, another lady from their church lived close to us and developed an interest in me. She started taking me to church, so I never lost my connection there, and I will always be grateful for that.

Within a year, we were able to expand