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!

The Over-Comer - Two Great Victories - A Humbled and Motivated Dad

One thing rings true as a single dad raising two boys almost ten years apart in age...when a victory arrives, it can be both humbling and motivating at the same time. This fact came to fruition just a couple of weeks ago when Chandler came home with a rather beaming smile upon his mug.

"Dad! I made varsity theater for my junior year! And...(he pauses)...are you ready for this?"

"Sure, Champ (I have called him Champ since his T-Ball days at the Y when he was a spry 5 years old)!"

"I also have all A's and B's!"

The same smile ran across my face as I knew how much work, study, and preparation he put into his grades and the monologue for varsity auditions. The theater teacher told him after he finished to speak with him. They talked about grades. Chandler communicated his commitment level and then the teacher looked at him and said, "Chandler, you did fantastic." At that, my son was completely thrilled, pumped, and motivated even more to keep his grades at the level he had raised them to currently. Two more weeks have passed and his grades now stand at all A's and two B's. Amazing. Simply amazing. Not that his grades have climbed to this level, but that they have elevated to this height in the midst of the past 2 1/2 years.

A wonderful friend of mine whom I respect and love, Curt, told me that Chandler is an over-comer. I have never thought of him this way, but now, I can not agree more. Proud? Yes. Humbled? Definitely.

These victories fuel motivation both in him and, believe or not, me as a dad. The victories communicate that things really do get better over time.

Let's face it, as a single parent, it is a challenge to say the least to balance kids, a clean home (yep - I fail here miserably!), laundry, yard, career, making meals, grocery shopping, helping with homework, teacher conferences, school activities, sports activities, church activities, dishes, etc etc etc.So, when my son has some victories like this, it motivates me as a dad to keep moving forward day by day by day. One day at a time. One moment at a time. Sometimes, it is all a person can do and that is okay I am learning. God just wants us to trust Him one moment at a time. His grace is sufficient. He leads us to victory. He humbles us with that victory and motivates us to keep going. Easy victories don't come with the satisfaction that the difficult victories bring where we sweat it out and struggle to get across the finish line stretching ourselves for the tape. We have to be as Curt so elegantly put it, over-comers.

Chandler is doing this and it is exciting to watch. Over-comer? You bet.


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

Bluebonnets, Memories...Old and New

When God created bluebonnets, He had to be thinking of Texas. Everything is bigger in Texas as they say. The bluebonnet? The biggest beauty of wildflowers in my book.

The bluebonnets are not only the Texas state flower, but in this family, a tradition. It might not be a yearly addition in the Cahill Crew, but we try to make it a special run as often as possible. It has been a few years. The last time we motored up 290 toward Hempstead and Brenham was three years ago.

Yes...another first. The concern, to be completely honest, mounted in my mind for my oldest. A lot of memories in the head from past trips not only three years ago, but many others throughout the years. Both boys really wanted to take a drive to a field of these beautiful wild flowers, take Savannah (Chandler's very sweet girlfriend) and shoot some lasting pictures. I obliged of course.

Back up a second though. Saturday evening. Bed time. Putting the little guy to bed, I finished reading to him and Spencer wanted to talk about the bluebonnets. My mouth literally fell open over the next few moments.

"Daddy, do you remember when we went to the bluebonnets?" Spencer asked.

"Uhh...sure." I said, not knowing that he actually remembered three years prior when he was a sprite 3 years old.

"We all went, daddy. You, me, Chandler and mommy." He said.

I nodded and said, "Yes, buddy. I remember that day. Do you remember that day too?"

"Uh huh. That was a great day. We all had a lot of fun."

"Yes. We did. That is a great memory, buddy."

And then out of nowhere came this...

"Is mommy ever coming home?" Spencer asked. Yes. You read that correctly.

It has been two and a half years. My mouth fell open. My heart sank to my shoes. I did the best I could do as this took me by total surprise.

"Buddy, mommy isn't coming home. She has a new home with a new person. It is you and me and Chandler now. You still get to see mommy and talk to her, but she is not coming home. She still loves you, buddy."

The lip quivered. The tears ran. He reached up for me. I grabbed him and he wept for 5 solid minutes in my arms. I just held the little guy. I told him that I loved him and that I was here for him and that his brother was here as well. I thought about cancelling the trip to the bluebonnets that was slated for the next day after church. I was angry. I was hurt. Emotions flooded my mind, my heart, my soul...all for this little innocent 6 year old with a memory. More than one memory. Good memories. Scary memories. Emotion filled memories.

Where to go from here?

After he settled down, I prayed over him God's blessing and to touch his heart and bring him joy and happiness. He asked if we could pray for mommy. I told him we could and we prayed for God to bless her as well. I asked him if he still wanted to go after church the next day and he said that he really did, but wanted to bring some of his buddies (stuffed animals). I told him that that would be great and that they would probably love the bluebonnets too!

I kissed him on his forehead, turned out the light, and walked out of the his room.

After church the next day, we picked up Savannah and journeyed west out 290 to find a field of bluebonnets. We didn't even have to get to Hempstead before we came upon one the largest fields of bluebonnets I have ever seen. We pulled over and scampered through these beautiful wild flowers. As I snapped pictures of the boys, of Chandler and Savannah, and of Spencer and his "buddies", I thought how much this memory would etch into their minds as well. We laughed. We ran. We basked in God's glorious creation.

I stopped and looked out over the field, thought back, fought back a tear and then looked at the boys. My two sons. Happy. Chandler with his girlfriend being silly running through the bluebonnets hand in hand...giggling. Spencer laying down in the flowers looking up at the sky with his Hot Wheels sunglasses and "buddies". A new memory. Another new beginning. This is good.

Abandonment is brutal. It has such a lasting effect. The research out there states that most kids will be impacted for the rest of their lives even if the abandonment happened when they were quite young as in Spencer's case. Saturday night's question and breakdown proved that to me even more as he summoned up a memory from three years ago. Who would have ever guessed he would remember something from when he was three? Truly amazing. That day obviously had a large impact on him and served as a positive memory for him.

We all built new memories that day. All of them positive. All lasting. All fun. All with smiles. The lasting impact of abandonment and divorce might be scarring, but who says we can't build great lasting positive memories that can hopefully overshadow some of that pain? God is all about joy. He is all about fullness. And as my good friend Chad so famously states, "God is bigger." He is, Chad.

Bigger field of wildflowers. Bigger smiles that day. Bigger laughs. New Bigger Memories. God is Bigger.



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