When Hope Poisoned the Water Sweet

WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH in times ravaged in wait. We sink in the weeds, bury into the filth of soil and loose sight and hold of goodness, of promise, of ease. And woe when we even loose grasp of hope itself, for in the absence of hope life dwarfs to only the moment at hand and not a promised minute more. Taken by current moving steady away from the bank, we float wherever and however life moves us. When we loose sight of hope in waiting, we are as a compass needle spinning without point or as a swerving car in the dark of night without headlights to show the way right in front of us. This is the kind of waiting that finds us drifting in despair, when resolve will not hurry to come and no answer appears. Not as if you are waiting for something sure or simple, but wondering if what you need will even ever come at all. Our heart beats in rhythmic silence a wordless communication more ominous than any word formed could hold. If our words could carry accurate meaning, they would be of the foulest kind: inarticulate and bitterly raucous. No, even these attempts at capturing the emotion bottled within our heart only seem to bounce off the sky and return to our own ears empty without satisfaction or reply.

There are times in life we must wait, sure of things to come, and times we wait because truly, we are lost. Many good men, strong and assured, have faded from life in wait, dislodged from the security of life undisturbed and settled. What does this type of lost look like? Being lost can look like many things, but the worst kinds of lost are those times when your heart aches without answer – when what you thought you could count on falls through and what you hoped would happen never does ever truly happen. Life bitters and its current carries you wherever and however. This is the lost in which men lose their lives and yet continue to live on, quite a bit smaller and much quieter – a subdued, forfeited shadow of themselves once made braver because of hope present.

Just how does one find hope again once it falls lost amidst life’s arduous circumstance?

Hope doesn’t lay hidden from us, not is it elusive in the least bit. It is up to you to take hold of hope and allow your course to be steered aright by the surety that comes along with hope. Everyday thousands of reasons deliver hope right to us starting with crack of dawn’s warm light right down to the twinkle of each star precisely hung in expanse of the heavens. Thousands of years ago, a single star marked the arrival of the Hope of all hopes. Then too, there were lost sojourners sunk in wait, faded into shadows more bound to the shape of living than living as Hope had originally intended living to be: hope at the core, not a wind to be chased. And that Hope of all hopes forever poisoned the water sweet, so as to brighten the darkest of days with an unfailing flicker and forever welcomes all those lost in wait or anguish or death or disappointment and so on.

This is Christmas. May we come close and adore Him, the Hope of all hopes.

So Much to be Thankful for

SOMETIMES SPYING THE GOODNESS in life requires our slowing down, turning our heads and gazing into the life just behind us. Such is the year and the stretch of life behind me. Just a few days ago, my wife and I just celebrated our first anniversary of marriage over a quiet dinner where we shared a collective exhale of both joy and relief. There have been days more difficult than we could've imagined when we first said, "I do". If given the choice in the moment, we would have wished those days away. But what those difficult days have taught us in this year of marriage is to learn how to say I do all over again, and again and again. We have grown stronger and less recognizable as two distinct people, undoubtedly because of our choosing of us rather than ourselves in the moment. I'm thankful for this year.

I have watched my Marissa grow from singleness to both wife and mother instantly and it is one of the holiest movements of life I have ever observed. With a fortitude fed by God's continual sufficient grace, she has served our family uncannily well. She's human. She breaks down. But oh, how beautiful a sight to watch her stand back up. My lady's a fighter that won't stay in her corner. Every time the bell rings, she comes back out whether she's weary and empty or running on the high of victory. I'm thankful for this year.

Our daughters are learning to grapple well with grief. They are braver, more honest and ready for life ahead. I have loved to watch them grow and take on brand new challenges this year. My prayer is simple: may hope always dwell in their hearts, ever preserved by a grace immeasurable. I'm thankful for this year.

My goal for year one of our family was just to make it. And that we did. Now that we are on to year two, we are ready to build. Today, we leave for a week of vacation, to celebrate our first year of marriage and then to be with family for Thanksgiving. Sitting here with these thoughts, I am reminded again I have so much to be thankful for. Before Thanksgiving Day arrives, I pray you escape into some quiet time and reflect on the goodness behind. Sometimes, the best of goodness lies right amongst the thorns and rocks. Those are the best of times.

As a way of keeping you better updated with articles published and interviews I've given, I started a Facebook Author's page. If you haven't had a chance to check it out, please visit and "Like" it to receive all postings related to my activity.

The Neverending Walk Through Grief

NO ONE COULD EVER possibly prepare themselves enough for the brunt impact of the death of a loved one. Death takes from life without asking or permission. There’s no consideration of circumstance or stage of life or preference. It’s hand clumsily reaches into your life and pulls out all that it wants. The end. And if death is a thief, then grief is the nosey neighbor who uninvitedly returns to your door every morning to chat again about what happened. Soon enough, you find yourself trying to sneak out the back door or a side window to avoid grief each day. Some days you can outwit it, but you will never beat it. Grief always returns, typically unannounced, to recall you to loss until you make friends, put on the coffee and talk. This process of making friends with grief works for an adult who knows how to converse with grief. But a child typically doesn’t know how to answer the door and put on the coffee and make friends. A child who experiences the loss of a parent or loved one is stuck inside of a broken house, haunted by emptiness and aching loneliness.

In our family, I can distinctly remember the suspended pain in my daughters’ eyes after their mother died. They held words and tears from me in fear that they would cause me to hurt even more. Their little smiles spread vacant under their flat laying eyes. Nothing would cure the aching except to scoop their memories into the neatest piles, pack them with us and move on. I learned to how to speak honestly with them about the holes in our hearts and to nurture them even though we didn’t feel okay. Together, we discovered goodness in each day. Life would never be the same again eventually matured into a tender hopeful adventure rather than a sinking black hole. And now more than four years removed, we haven’t conquered death, we’ve been swallowed by life again. Maybe that makes us survivors.

One thing I am sure of, we are not done. Grief is not something that you graduate from or level out of, but a lifelong movement further away from loss into life again, where hope roots down into each day again. As years go by, they mature emotionally, intellectually and spiritually, and their lives strengthen and take individual form, our daughters will wrestle with grief interruptions and emotions that they aren’t ready, or even able, to process now. This is the life they know all too well: 1.2 million children will lose a parent to death before the age of 15. As a parent, my role is to lead them through grief now, teaching them how to preserve memories and cultivate life, so that when grief visits them later in life, they will be ready to put on the coffee and make friends instead of climbing out of windows and slipping out the back door.

As a once widower and now an author, I see my experience as a means of helping to create better awareness of grief in families. And you can help me. Each year on the third Thursday of November, the National Alliance for Grieving Children helps open the door for these little forgotten mourners and give opportunity to tell children they are not forgotten - there is healing, hope and a new day for them to thrive in and belong to. Please visit childrensgriefawarenessday.org for more information on how to get involved.

And if you are in the Dallas area, I will be speaking at an event to coincide with Children’s Grief Awareness day graciously hosted by Watermark church on Saturday November 22.

Here’s the link for more information - A Conversation on Grief and Families


*(Dr. Elizabeth Weller, Dir. Ohio State University Hospitals, 1991) 

Coffee and words.

A good Saturday to you. My cup of coffee is shallow and cooler, but my heart is full of excitement and adventure. Today is a bit of a man day for me. The girls are taking to painting and fall crafts, so I'm popping the hood on my '89 Landcruiser to give her a bit of TLC and meeting up with a buddy for an afternoon of weekend revelry. I hope you've lined something up for your weekend, something that'll recharge you and awaken wonder.

I hope you enjoy the articles below, and I hope they serve as some meditative material for your thoughts. Here's to a bit more coffee and elbow grease! 

Here's a great Saturday morning read from a writer friend whose perspective and experiences I truly respect. Pour another cup and step into the holy.

I just recently discovered Justin Ricklefs when I stumbled onto his article over at Good Men Project - 15 Things All Dads of Daughters Should Know 

Watching movies is truly one of our favorite family times throughout the week. Tonight, the five of us are headed to a family movie. Here's a good read on defining movies with messages.

A book about hope that I'm looking forward to.

Does your local church have the right to define your Christianity?

Speaking of church as it relates to us and culture, here's an interesting read on how the SBC seems to be intentionally updating its tone on homosexuality and marriage.

Why Our Daughters Won't Own iPhones Anytime Soon.

AS A KID, I would lose track of time with uncanny ease. Hours passed with little concern or notice. Nothing mattered as much as the moment, then and there. Once my cousin and I convinced each other - to the point of near fanatical faith - that the spaceship we constructed mostly of cardboard could, in fact, leave the ground. Our hearts took flight first, fizzing with adrenaline and expectation. We would be the first flying boys. Our valiant attempt derailed with a lack of certain supplies, namely a propulsive force to lift us from our immediate terrestrial circumstance. But we gave it a good go. Endeavors of this sort marked me as a kid with an imagination as alive as ambitious.

Ninjutsu vanishing technique. Check. Professional skater. Check. Suburban soldier of fortune. Check. Illusionist. Check. Scientist. Check. Check. Explorer. Of course, check.

I grew up with a tangible sense of wonder that shaped the experiences of my childhood. Those memories I won’t soon forget. That seems like historic past tucked in a forever ago place in my heart labeled, ‘kid stuff’. As a parent, I love to inspire adventure and imagination in my own kids’ hearts, to see discovery light their eyes and wonder-filled activity unscripted appear in their day. This is the when and the how a child begins to find themselves and be found by passions and callings - where the heart beats real and blood carries life and meaning.

Technology is wonder of a different kind. It’s a sort of shared wonder, not discovered, but created and refined by the genius of another at the fingertips of all those who use it. The widespread usage and availability of technology carries opportunity and hope to many in remote, undeveloped parts of the globe in the form of accessibility of knowledge, but also ushers in a growing dullness in humanity where technology exists in abundance as a means to even more consumption. Technology is not evil, but the attention given to it can be.

We’ve made an attempt to limit screen time under our roof - a lazy redirect to disconnect from an electronic device to do something creative instead. Only in recent days have my wife and I decided to up our game and limit technology in our household even more in response to the changes we both recognized in our daughters’ behaviors and moods. We found them to be more irritable, detached, unmotivated, sluggish and passionless, the more they were allowed to use technology, as opposed to times when technology was scarcely used. Technology over use dulls the soul with an empty exchange where the user learns to accept and take rather than give and discover. For a child, in particular, technology can hinder development necessary for growth and maturity in areas such as compassion, empathy, conversation, creativity, to name a crucial few.

We are certainly nowhere near anti-tech, but realize that technology is quite simply a means to discovery and not an end point for consumption only. I want our kids to love well, appropriate value wisely, speak intelligently, experience life in real day and pursue creativity that is not only self-expressive but giving to others in real capacity. For this to be a formational value in our family, the allure of technology as status and gratification must die so that in its place our children can truly thrive.

And this is why our daughters know they won't own a mobile device for years to come. There's simply too much for them to experience and too many memories to make along the way. Technology has its place behind everything else far more important - the stuff that really matters in life.

(image: "iPhone Bokeh" by Dominque, licensed by CC2.o)