Lace Up Your Boots

About the Author
Robert VanScoten writes with calloused hands and a conscience that still remembers every name, every lie, and every bridge he set on fire.
He is a husband, father, veteran, tradesman, recovering addict, and convicted felon-a man who has spent years carrying PTSD, depression, and the quiet conviction that some wounds never stop bleeding. He has watched addiction strip away dignity one compromise at a time, leaving behind empty rooms, broken trust, and the kind of silence that settles over a life when everyone expects the obituary before the apology.
He did not find his voice in comfort. He found it in county cells that smelled of bleach and regret, on job sites where exhaustion drowned memory for a few hours, in church pews occupied by men too ashamed to lift their heads, and in recovery meetings where hope sounded fragile enough to break between trembling hands.
His poetry is not an escape from darkness-it is evidence that someone walked through it and came back carrying words instead of chains. Every page is stained with grief, guilt, faith, and the stubborn refusal to let the worst thing he ever did become the only thing he ever was. He writes of addiction as a grave a man digs while convincing himself he is building a home, of depression as a shadow that follows even into daylight, and of redemption as a long road paved with confession instead of excuses.
These collected works belong to the forgotten: the addict who still flinches at his own reflection, the veteran fighting wars no one else can see, the father trying to earn back the trust he buried, the laborer whose scarred hands hide a fractured soul, and every man who has ever believed he is too ruined for grace.
Robert does not write as a survivor standing above the fire. He writes as a man who still smells the smoke on his clothes, who still hears old ghosts whisper his name, and who still drops to his knees each morning believing that God can breathe life into bones the world has already counted as dead.
His story is not one of perfection. It is the testimony of a man who crawled out of hell with nothing but faith, honesty, and the willingness to live one more day.