Hope...

Hope.

Hope brings me vision.

Hope sustains me through difficult times.

Hope raises me out of bed in the morning to tackle the day.

Hope disperses the mundane.

Hope opens doors when others have been slammed shut.

Hope stirs the soul's fire when despair has attempted to toss water on the flame.

Hope starts new dreams and keeps older ones alive.

Hope fills the glass that was half empty to overflowing and spilling over into aspects of life that I never thought could be touched.

Hope reaches down to pull me up when I am at the bottom and points me to a Savior who is completely crazy about me.

Hope pushes me to be better for my two sons.

Hope aids in the healing of the past and ushers in the meaning of "new creation in Christ".

Hope keeps my eyes fixed on the prize.

Hope presses the re-start button each day so that I keep looking forward and dwell on the past.

Hope will grow me past PTSD.

Hope gives me the future that I thought could not be attained.

Hope doesn't drain me...it motivates me everyday.

Hope brings a smile to my face when I watch my two sons laugh, fills me with warmth when I hug them, wipes my tears away when there is pain, and holds all of the pieces together when I think all is lost.

Hope.

Hope is bigger than me.

Hope is the Lord God Almighty. Crazy about me. Crazy about my sons. Wants the best for us. Wants us to succeed. Desires an intimate relationship with us because we are His creation. His masterpiece of art.

I am so thankful He gave me His Hope.

My grace is sufficient for you...One Day At A Time!

A Time That Will Never Be Forgotten

Chandler posing at Joe's Crab Shack - Don't know where he gets it from!

We found it. After numerous homes, two potential offers that were eventually pulled and endless driving all over Kingwood, we drove by a nice French Colonial home in Bear Branch. It was perfect. It even had the magnolia tree in the backyard that she had hoped for in addition to a bay window looking out to the backyard. We put in an offer the next day and moved in by December of 1999.

Chandler was only three and my time away from youth ministry? Not even a year yet. Spencer? Not even a glimmer of a thought. There, before us, stood our future. We built memories at this home that will last forever. I cannot begin to write the numerous times we all laughed (sometimes to the point of tears), had friends over for meals or card games, hosted Super Bowls, played kickball out front, teeball and baseball, took walks around the block or on the greenbelt, and many many many other memories from our family.

2009 changed all of that. Friday the 13th came and went like an atomic bomb. Now, almost three years later, the house was finally sold. Happy memories were replaced with haunting ones. Flashbacks became nightmares in the middle of the night. Tears of sadness and hurt substituted the laughter. Walking down a hallway, I could almost hear voices from the past, but the hallowed sounds were not holy anymore, but curses. Instead of bringing me to my knees in humility with the blessing of a full family, I fell to my face begging for answers and eventually the deliverance from what was once a refuge which had turned into a place filled with heartache and anguish.

No matter how many ways I changed the furniture around, painted walls, took down old pictures/paintings and placed new ones in their places, the memories still played in my mind like a looping movie reel.

Now, we had a buyer and the sale went through. We held an epic garage sale. Whatever didn't sell, we donated to HAAM. The next weekend, we spent the time putting everything together for the packers. After the packers finished, we made the move to the apartment. Spencer stayed the night with some friends. We had just about finished trucking everything from our sold 4 bedroom 2 1/2 bath 2800 square foot home to our 2 bedroom 2 bath 1200 square foot apartment.

Chandler and I drove the Jeep back to the house for a few extra things before we went to bed at the apartment. As we walked into the house, an eerie feeling came over me. I was brought back in time to the first time I had walked into the family room in 1999. I remembered feeling the new carpet, seeing the leaves rustle in the Magnolia through the cool autumn breeze in the backyard, and the smile on her face that this was the place. I must have stood in the middle of that room for 5 minutes before snapping back into reality.

I started to fill one of the boxes with a few things and ended up filling the Jeep with a number of our belongings. I opened the back door and realized that I had not seen Chandler since we arrived. I knew where he was. I could feel it. As I pushed open the door to what was once his room for the vast majority of his life, he sat in a lone chair against the wall next to the door. A tear fell down his left cheek and he wiped it away.

I hugged him. We talked about the numerous memories in his room. Endless nights of reading books in his bunk bed with the cool light bulb hanging over his top bunk. Nerf basketball matches so intense that his closet doors eventually had to come off. Sleepovers. Neighborhood kids playing kickball. The memories were many. We both struggled to find words. I gazed upon Chanlder's face and he mine. We both hugged and wept for a good 5 minutes. We had to leave this house. We both knew it. We both knew how hard it all of a sudden had become to do just that and yet we knew it was the right thing.

I asked Chandler if he wanted me to pray. He said yes. So, I took his hands into mine and prayed. I wept as I praised God for all of the good memories at this wonderful home that he had blessed us with for almost 13 years. I also thanked Him that He opened the door for a new place to build new memories and have a new beginning for the three of us.

We stood. We hugged again. We walked to the Jeep and slowly drove away down the street for the last time together away from his childhood home. It was over yet we both knew that God had acted so quickly to sell this house that there was no mistaking the fact that we were walking the right road and that the Lord was in the middle of everything. God brought a smile to my face as Chandler drove back with me to the apartment. I was proud of my 16 year old. He opened up and we had a very intimate father/son moment that I will never forget for the rest of my life. We shared stories. We wept. We prayed. We rejoiced. What else can a dad ask for?

My grace is sufficient you...One Day At A Time!

New Year...2012...One Day At A Time

Chandler wrote on his Facebook status that he is looking forward to 2012 to be a year that will not be filled with drama and a year of peace. I don't think I could echo him any louder. The last two years have taught me to live life one day at a time, to not take anyone or anything for granted, and thank the Lord that my biggest blessing outside of my salvation are my two boys.

Normally, when I write, I slather (is that really a word?) in some witty humor. This entry leans to the more serious side. It has been two years:

Where I am now:


I still cry.

My focus remains on my boys which helps keep me centered as well as my relationship with Christ.

I sleep better some nights than others. Last night was one of those nights. I woke at 3 and couldn't go back to sleep. This still happens and I suppose will eventually get better.

I still can't listen to certain musicians (sorry Dave Matthews - still too hard), watch certain movies, or go certain places.

Kingwood is not easy to live in, but I choose to as I know it is the most stable environment for Chandler and Spencer right now. Way too many memories all over the place going back to high school.

The friends I have are numerous and amazing. Without them, I would probably be in a padded room with a tight fitting jacket being fed by an orderly named Helga.

My family remains a strong support. They have been there for me since everything happened. Knowing that will not change is comforting.

Moving forward has not been easy. It is a process. It is not an event. I will probably never look back and say, "I moved forward on 'x' day." Some people I have spoken with have said this and others have not...mine will be a process. Spending 23 years of my life with someone, 17 of them married, and having it end in an instant along with the abandonment of children is not only difficult to go through, it is brutal on all levels...emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually, etc. The consequences I would not wish on anyone...especially to my kids.
But..............two years later:

I smile more.

I laugh more and with more people.

My sons bring me joy.

I have learned that I can have joy and not be filled with happiness and that is okay.

I am slowly finding fun in riding my bike again.

This will be the first year that I set goals for myself in a long time and I am looking forward to it.

Even though I still hurt, grieve and have a lot of unaswered questions, I have come to the realization that I will hurt and grieve less and that understanding what happened will really never happen...and that is okay!

My heart will always have scars now. This doesn't mean it stops beating. It just means that I have a story, a ministry, a burden, and empathy for those who have suffered the same loss...especially those who have dealt with abandonment as a child.

Healing is not an instant. Healing happens incrementally and I have to be open to it.

Even though I have made mistakes since everything happened, some of them big, I am still loved and chosen by the Lord. My boys and I are going to be alright.

God's grace is sufficient. Praise God. His grace is sufficient.

Peace. It is a good thing to ask God for in 2012. Chandler will be 16 in March. He has grown up so much in two years. I am very proud of him. He has so much to look forward to in his life. My prayer is that he will love the Lord and be able to have the peace he seeks which can only come from the Lord.



My grace is sufficient for you...One Day At A Time!