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!

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!

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!

Kites and Wiffleball - What else can bring Joy on a blustery day?

Certain experiences are important in a growing boys life. Playing in sprinklers, riding bikes, getting dirty, climbing trees are just three. I think back to Tom and Huck fishing with a cane pole or my cousin Scott and I climbing my grandparent's trees especially the one in the front yard that we ascended all the way to the top one day and were both almost too frightened to come back down!

Kite flying. Yes, we don't see this much anymore. Little boys taking to the skies with their beloved kite to master the winds above them and tame that triangular shaped piece of flimsy plastic with quite the thin string. Spencer and I made our journey to the Bear Branch Elementary field where the wind swirled on this rare occasion in Kingwood. It doesn't happen often so we took advantage.

This B-1 Stealth Bomber shaped kite was about to make its debut in the skies over the Liveable Forest. I gave the string to Spinner and instructed him to run when tossed the "plane" up into the air. It didn't take much. Up it went. The wind howled. The sand flew behind the rocketing feet of my six year old as he giggled and bestowed his successful first flight. A gust of wind followed sending the bomber into a loop and tumbling to its initial crash into the turf. As we recovered our craft, up to the sky it went with another lift into the air. This time I was at the helm and the string was let out at a lightening pace. Almost like afterburners, it flapped violently way up in the sky almost out of sight it seemed. I gave Spencer the string holder to navigate. He held on tight as it darted back and forth in the blustery gales above the pine trees.

He laughed. I smiled. I took a couple of pictures and a quick video. Great memory. He had a blast. After about 30 minutes of piolting our flying $3.99 kite from the Easter Bunny, we went on to our next event, his soccer game at the Y.

Later that evening, Chandler has invited over a few of his friends, ten of them, for his belated 16th birthday get together. My highlight of the evening came when they strolled outside to the court facing our home. Following the National Anthem and the proverbial first pitch, Wiffleball was underway. I was transported to 10 years ago playing baseball with a much younger Chandler in that same court. I watched as these teenage boys played like they were 6, 8 or 10 years old again. They pitched, hit, ran, taunted, and were little boys again. I took some more pics and a quick video as well.

What can I say? I love being a dad. I truly enjoy watching my sons have fun and enjoy life, their friends, hearing them laugh, and making the most out of this chapter in our lives. It is a time I hope to never forget and when I get down, all I have to do is look at these pictures or watch these videos. God brings me back to place of joy.


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