Discussions by Candlelight Wrapped in a Bath Towel - Happy New Year

Spencer the Sheepdog in the Kids Christmas Musical

New Year's Eve. Throughout the past, I have celebrated this holiday with a spread of emotion from exuberance with fireworks to nights in the bed in tears fearing what the next year would bring. Quite the range, I know. There seems to be hope on the horizon for now. With a new home, celebrating Christmas in the Ohana and now facing a New Year, the excitement of heading to a New Year's Eve party with the MOB (the name of my Sunday School class that I attend quite inconsistently) with a quick stop over to some great friends, the Medley's, filled my heart. The last few New Year's have not been so joyous, so having one to look forward to turned into quite the blessing.

Talking on the phone with a good friend, the power jolted in my home. Even my cell phone dropped the call. My seven year old fears the dark more than the average first grader, so I quickly snagged the lighter to light some candles. He started to cry as I quickly created light to bring both sight and comfort to the little guy's mind. How do you explain to a child that has such a big fear of darkness that he is going to be just fine and not be eaten up by some unseen thing or worse that same darkness somehow swallow us whole and turn spit us out in some foreign place or other planet (not that he thinks this, but that would be kinda scary!).

I quickly thought of what I could do to keep him distracted. I own a battery operated atomic clock that sits on my night stand. All a person has to do is push it down and there is instant light showing the time with seconds ticking away with the date and current temperature. What a cool toy! Spencer became my stopwatch. I needed to get in a workout anyway, so why not get in 30 minutes on the bike trainer while he gives me the cues to slow down and speed up on the pedals or sit and stand out of the saddle?

Mark it down folks! It worked! For the next 35 minutes, I would tell him the time that he needed to watch for and give me the signal. I would then speed up or slow down or stand or sit or change gears, etc etc etc. Spencer, unknowingly, turned into a wonderful workout partner.

It also put us behind on schedule. I figured the power would pop back on during the workout. No wind. No storm. No rain. Nothing. Yet, the power just quit. As I cooled down for 15 minutes he was completely proud of himself for helping dad with his workout. Still no power after the cool down. I needed to shower. I carried the lit candle into the bathroom and placed it on the counter. I gave Spencer my clock and fired up another candle for him. I took a shower by candle light. When I snagged the towel and wrapped it around me, Spencer came into the bathroom.

Out of the blue, he asked a question about my mom. This was a first. I told him that my mom would have loved him and he would have loved her as well (my mom passed away in 1999). He said that he missed his mom. I told him that I understood and asked him if he remembered his mommy when she was here.

**Sidenote - I have been encouraged by professionals that when he initiates conversations like this to listen and ask questions that lead to open ended questions as well. 

He shook his head. I asked him what he did remember about his mommy being with us. He gave a shoulder shrug. So, I asked him whether his memories were good or bad of mommy being here. He said that they were good. I told that he needs those good memories. We talked about some memories. We laughed about some. We were saddened by others (mainly the ones that she has missed).

Needless to say, this was a breakthrough. A seven year old freely sharing like this is a great thing. I sat there in my dark closet with a towel wrapped around me for 20 minutes listening and talking with my little 7 year old in a way that I didn't think would happen for at least another 4 years from now. A window opened and I saw a smidgen of his heart, his memories, his sadness, his loss, and his current happiness.

We missed the chance to go to our friends, but made the MOB party. Spencer and I had a ball.

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

Blank Slate...Fresh Canvas...New Roads...God's Grace

As I sit sprawled out on my couch to type this, praise music quietly plays in the background with a growing almost seven year old singing along to a Chris Tomlin toon while playing with his hot wheels. I am surrounded by reminders that I have two boys almost 10 years apart. Headphones are out from Chandler's iPod. Spencer's "farm" complete with horses, pigs, cows, etc. spread throughout a 10 sq ft spot on the floor with planes, hot wheels, and other toys. To the right of that sits my prized material possession, yes, my bike. A Time Edge Pulse race bike sitting on its trainer awaiting a ride where I can pretend to be scaling Alpe Du Huez in France tearing apart the peloton as I climb to victory while hammering the pedals through 20+ switchbacks! My mind is filled with newness. Dreams. Places. Praises. Thanks. A fresh start.

Tabula Rasa. A fresh blank slate.

This is a psychological term that I learned in college while majoring in the same. It means a blank slate. With the past leaving quite an impact on the three of us with abandonment, I still ponder the wonder of God's grace in the midst of tragic loss and traumatic emotional scarring. It is true that these scars will always be here and that PTSD will rear its ugly head from time to time, but God's grace has never been more clear than now.

Selling the house and starting over with a new address, different roads to drive each day, different company to work for, different places to shop, different school to drop Spencer off each morning, different couch to perch upon, different vehicle to drive...the list goes on. There are many things at this point that I still have a hard time with and bring sadness (Billy Joel, Dave Matthews, smells, sounds, places, etc.) due to the immediate memories that these sensory stimuli illicit, but I remind myself that where I stand today begins anew. I am truly at a blank slate from where I was even in May.

As the days tick by like a large clock, I look at my oldest and see just a few years left with him at home as he will launch off to college and beyond. Does he realize that he just entered this world?! I also see a budding 6 (7 on Oct 24th) year old crazy about being this age, loves to laugh yet still struggles immensly with separation anxiety. I love these guys. They are my breath and life. The clock ticks by too fast.

This blank slate of ours reminds me of a fresh canvas. We have the opportunity to paint a piece of art that is our life from scratch. Yes, parts of the canvas have been impacted by the past and that will never be changed, but we have a chance to dream. To live anew. To, as Isaiah states, "mount up with wings like eagles". We are growing new wings, new talons, new beaks. The brush sits in our hands. We stand before the ezel to start anew.

I can't help but use another illustration to go along with this canvas. I remember the first time, I rode my bike in the hill country. I was surrounded by sounds I had never heard, scenery I had only beheld in pictures, and animals that I literally slowed down to gaze upon. Endless hills surrounded me as I pedaled through God's workmanship and I found myself in awe of His creation and craftsmanship. Our journey takes us on a ride much like that first ride on Upper Crabapple Road in Fredericksburg, TX. It will be challenging. I will be beautiful. There will be days that I want to quit. There will be days that I smile from ear to ear as bask in the wind of God's grace riding downhill in His creation. There will be days where I stop to smell the roses. There will be days that I hammer the pedals and am driven to aspire to some goal and make it to a certain point by a certain time. There will be days that I don't think I can make it to the top of a steep hill and He will be there to encourage me to hammer that much harder. Most importantly, it is not about finishing the ride, but enjoying the journey of this new road. I don't know where it ends. What hills and mountains I will have to traverse. One thing I do know, He will be there with me the entire route cheering me on with encouragement with my boys as we gaze upon His creation.

Ready...set....go


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!

Rainy Days and Hot Wheel Tracks



The storm rolled in around 3:00 a.m. when my little one staggered in my room quite frightened from the loud thunder clap. I had heard the sound and knew it would only be a matter of moments when the knob of my bedroom door would be turned and the sound of whimpering would follow along with the pitter patter of feet.

"Daddy, I'm scared."

"It's okay, buddy. I'm here. Do you want to sleep in here with daddy?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Crawl in..."

Spencer climbs in my king size sleigh bed and pulls the covers up all the way to his neck as he clutches his wooby and gets so close to me that I feel like I am about to fall out of this large bed.

The rain came. The skies opened up and I started to wonder if an ark construction was in the plans for the Houston area. Spencer fell asleep quickly. I lie awake listening to the rain hit the roof and roll off into the yard as the grass sucked up the well needed replenishing.

The parallels struck me so evidently. For two years, the storms have raged. At times, I have felt like drowning in the pain could be the only lot left in life. I watch and listen to my boys struggle at times, but as time moves forward, a little rain brings nourishment. We stretch forward like a blade of grass yearning for fresh water. As it hits us, we take it in, close our eyes and await the next hit of refreshment.

Not only do these rainy days have the potential to bring us this well-needed hit of  rejuvenation, but they can also be a needed change of plans. I had wanted to get on my bike and put in some well-needed miles. Instead, we ended up building a Hot Wheels track in the family room and tested numerous cars to see which one(s) worked best with the two power boosters. This started our day off with some great time together. Sure, I missed a workout, but I gained a memory. The rain is good not only for the ground, grass, trees, plants, etc. It brought about a quick change of plans as simple as a Hot Wheel track.

The journey is one day at a time. It needs simplicity...not complexity. Isn't God wonderful Who brings in the weather to usher in simplicity in our lives and make the important a reality.

I still worked out later. I took the boys to the gym and lifted with Chandler while Spencer made some new friends in the childcare area. The teachers fell in love with him immediately. My boys have that effect on people. They are lovable because He is loving toward us. In the midst of storms, He has refreshed us with His grace and mercy. The journey continues.


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