A Beautiful Space

A Beautiful Space

When such beauty captivates a person
it can take them to a place within their mind;
a place that is not visited often, because
a beauty this rare doesn’t
come around often in a lifetime.

The mind captivates this beauty and
places it in a space
that allows a person to experience,
taste, feel and enjoy
such breath-taking beauty.
It can be re-lived over and over
until a time when it no longer
is fantasy but a reality.

by

Malissa Moss

Reminders

Her life was my purpose. In forgetting her I begin to lose myself.

As I ponder my next blog topic I felt the need to write. As some of you may realize I am entering the “dark times” as I’ve so fondly called it. The dark times I have come to know oh so well are the months from September through December. Every August I get the since that the dark times are almost here.

I begin to notice subtle changes in my mood. I become more withdrawn, less social because I don’t want to see all the reminders of what I have lost. When I see a woman out in public having dinner or shopping and she is with her mother – I am reminded that my mother is no longer here with me. When I see a woman out in public having dinner or shopping and she is with her daughter – I am reminded that  my daughter is no longer here with me. And when I see women together out in public with young children, I am reminded that I have lost so much.

I keep a picture of my mother on my dresser. It’s one of my favorites. It is from a family picnic from long ago. It is a four-generation picture of my great grandmother Lovina, my grandmother Martha, my mother Judie and me. I treasure it for it reminds me of the great women I have had in my life that are now gone. The sorrow of their absence in my life overwhelms me.

I also keep pictures of my sweet girl Brittany. I have them at work, and pretty much in every room in my home. I had once entertained the thought of removing them because seeing them brought such pain, more pain than joy. But I have now come to a place that I can see them and smile. But this time of year it’s more difficult to hide the pain. More difficult to smile. Because the emptiness is so very present.

I have saved some very special treasures that I keep in a cloth covered storage box that is about 3 feet long by 2 feet wide. It contains some great memories of my daughter. I have her American Girl doll from our trip to Chicago that we made one summer with another mom and her two daughters. It was a fun time. The doll she picked was the one where they designed it to look like her. So yeah it reminds me of her. I placed Brittany’s christening dress on the doll and laid her upon Brittany’s baby blanket which my mom began to crochet before her death. The one I found sitting behind her chair after her funeral. I finished it just in time to bring Brittany home again.

Some of the other things in the box are Brittany’s favorite blanket, her stuffed bear from Andy, her boyfriend at the time of her death and several photos. But the most difficult thing that box for me to see or hold are her glasses. Shortly after her death I picked them up and felt such a feeling of sorrow – it was unexplainable. All I knew is that I could somehow feel what she saw before she had her seizure. It was as if I could feel her pain or her aura before the seizure took her away from me. To this day I cannot pick them up without experiencing that horrible feeling.

I keep that box out of my sight for it brings more pain than joy – but on October 13th I open that box and let the sorrow take over – it is my way of letting the whole year of missing her flow out of me. I feel so alone during this time as I cannnot share it with anyone. No one can possibly understand this type of pain unless you’ve lived it. Yeah I can move on, I can work, I can laugh and enjoy life, but this small part of me – it’s never leaving. It’s always there and it’s always haunting me.

I have the most precious memory book I created that helped me throughout the first two years after her death. Don’t get me wrong it was so very painful to sit and look at pictures of her during such happy times. Knowing I’d never see her again. But I am so glad I took the time and created such a book. I can now look at it and share it with others in hopes that we don’t forget her. To my dying day I will not let her life be forgotten. Her life was my purpose. In forgetting her I begin to lose myself.

So my dear friends, the dark time is about to arrive and I ask you to pray for me, to love me and to understand that this to shall pass come January 1, 2011.

Until next time

m

Goodbye

Well my friends we have reached the end of Traveling Light by Max Lucado. It’s been a great ride and I’m so very grateful you all came along with me. I hope you learned something with each post. I know I did. So as I write the conclusion I am reminded of what a gift life is and we waste so much time carrying around the burdens were never meant to carry.

 

The Conclusion

“Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give  you rest.” Matthew 11:28 NLT

I tell  you I found Lucado’s conclusion to be hilariously funny and emotionally challenging. Why? Well first off I so identified with his falling asleep during a visit to the Louvre in Paris. While I was in Paris in 1999 we weren’t able to make it to the Louvre, a bucket list item, but we did go to many places of interest. One place in particular was the Museum de Picasso. Brittany had fallen in love with Picasso many years before. I believe in large part because we had a table book of Picasso’s work in our living room for years.

As we walked in, she ran off in wide-eyed wonder to see what she could find. She took it all in calling my name every other second to come and see what she had found. In looking back I can see I did what I always do when I go sight-seeing. I look but I don’t see. What I mean is I can look at something and say “that’s beautiful” but I don’t really see it. I don’t spend the time to absorb its beauty. Basically I take a passing glance and keep moving on. But Brittany, she understood what it meant to just sit in awe of spectacular beauty. Oh how I was annoyed by that then.

Now I have slowed down a little and stop to say thank you to God for creating such a beautiful gift that we call earth. I stop now and have learned to appreciate the small things. To take in the breath-taking view that for so long I passed by. Just like my life. I’ve been in such a hurry to get somewhere I have managed to see my life flash before me and there are some great moments, however, there are more moments filled with pain and sorrow. And now I say enough to that.

Lucado has throughout his book referred to our “baggage” that we carry around. Carrying around our lives carrying yesterday’s disappointments, life’s pain, dissatisfaction and many more. Carrying all that baggage is something I know I’ve done all my life. It’s hard to let it go. I think in large part because I let it define who I am. Or who I thought I was. But I am beginning to see that Lucado is right when he says that carrying around all that baggage causes us to miss what God has to offer. That we should be wide-awake. That we are missing the magic of life.

So that takes us back to the original scripture that carried us this far:

The Lord is my shepherd
I shall not want
He makes me to lie down.
He leads me.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in the paths of righteousness.
His name’s sake.
He walks me through it.
He guides me.
His presence comforts me.
He is with me.
He has prepared a place for me in the presence of my enemies.
He anoints me.
My cup overflows.
He follows me.
I will dwell in the house of my Lord forever.

So my dear friends, put down your baggage and take a deep breath – take in all that is magical about life and let God overflow your cup. I know that today my cup is overflowing and I’m going to do what I can to enjoy every last drop.

until next time

m

The Burden of Homesickness

Chapter 18 – Almost Heaven

The Burden of Homesickness

Continuing in my series of blogging through Max Lucado’s book “Traveling Light”.

I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever. Psalm 23:6 NKJV

Please note that this chapter may be difficult to read but I’m sure some of you will understand.

In this chapter Lucado talks about his love and desire for a big dog. And although his wife was against having a big dog, he was eventually allowed to get one. He compared his search for just the perfect dog was like God’s way of chosing us as His own. We belong to Him and this world we live in is not our home.

Homesickness has been a friend of mine for quite some time now. When I chose to move away from Indiana and venture out into the “big” world as I called it back then; at times I was so homesick for my family. So much so I almost moved back. But I’m glad I didn’t because I would have never had my sweet baby Brittany.

When Brittany died I too became homesick. Not homesick like you might understand it in the context of missing my hometown like above, but rather homesick for the home I just lost. Home can mean many things, but at that time “home” meant to me “life”. I felt like my life had been torn apart and every waking minute all I wanted was to go “home”. Back to the life I had just days before. When everything seemed ok.

We were planning for homecoming. Picking out dresses, coloring hair, making plans for the football game. Despite the news we had received a few short weeks before that she was having more and more seizure activity – life went on. We just went back to what we knew how to do – live. Then it all came crashing down on the eve of homecoming and in just 12 short hours she was gone.

She had gone home. Her eternal home. The home I now long for. That homesickness that Lucado eludes to in this chapter is the homesickness I felt so dramatically during those first few months. I longed to be with her. So much so I contemplated taking my own life. I missed her with every ounce of my soul. She was my everything. I wanted to go home.

Often when Brittany was upset about something, she’d say “I just wanna go home”. I always thought that was funny. But in looking back I have a better understanding because home to her meant a place of comfort. A place where she felt safe. I wanted that so much after her death. I just wanted to go home.

I replaced my sense of homesickness with believing it could be relieved by moving back to my home state of Indiana to be by my family about 6 months after Brittany’s death. I had nothing left in Michigan. Even my home had become a prison because I couldn’t bear to live there a minute longer. Every day after work when I came home, I walked into the door and fell to my knees because I could still smell her, feel her presence and knowing she was gone was too much to bear.

At night I couldn’t even go into my bedroom to sleep because over the years since her father and I had divorced I always made sure when I went to bed, I would check on her. I would open the door to her room, kiss her on the forehead and tell her “sweet dreams”. But in the months after her death, I couldn’t even walk to my bedroom because I had to pass her room first. It was incredibly painful to know she wasn’t in there. I couldn’t go and kiss her goodnight. So I slept on the couch for more than three months. I just wanted to go home.

Now as I approach the 4th year of her passing, I still long for home. I still long to be with her. I realize I cannot yet go home as my God is not ready for me to come home yet. In as much as I’d like to think he wants me home, he needs me to  be here doing his work. But I must tell you I have no desire to be here and I think that is because I haven’t had a real reason to want to be here. Maybe until now.

It seems as though my job and my friends have made an impression upon me that I need to stay a little longer. That I should want to stay a little longer. So I shall I guess, because really it is out of my hands. Because it is written that our days are numbered and our time on this earth is very short. One day I will see my girl again. Until then I know that God has her safely in his arms and He waits my return just in time.

until next time

m

The Burden of Doubt

Chapter 17 – God’s Loving Pursuit

The Burden of Doubt

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life” Psalm 23:4 NKJV

Continuing my series on blogging through Max Lucado’s book “Traveling Light” – and how it relates to the grieving heart. This has been quite the journey and one I hope touches your heart has it has mine.

Our moods may shift, but God’s doesn’t. Our minds may change, but God’s doesn’t. Our devotion may falter, but God’s never does. Even if we are faithless, he is faithful, for he cannot betray himself (2 Tim. 2:13). He is a sure God. And because he is a sure God, we can state confidently. “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.” – Max Lucado “Traveling Light”

In reading this chapter several things came to me about the story Lucado shares to demonstrate the fact that God follows us. Relentlessly. He follows us. Here is where I will tell you I know without a shadow of a doubt that God has relentlessly followed me, chased me down, spoke to me though dreams, through people, through death and through life. Because why? Because He is God.

After Brittany’s death I longed for answers from God about why. Why would I have to endure such suffering. Why would he allow such a horrible thing happen in my life. Brittany’s death wasn’t the first horrible event in my life – just so you know. There have been many, too many to share. I have written about them – but they remain contained in the private part of my blog. They are still too painful to see.

Yet through it all God relentlessly came after me. Time and time again. Showing me that despite all the loss and pain – he loved me. He loved me enough to send just the right message when I needed it. People came into my life that I would have never thought would be. And people left the same way.

God doesn’t always use the methods we would to run after, chase or at some point, stalk someone. I like to think of it as a flower arrangement that God is creating in one’s life. Always refreshing the bouquet in order to keep the beauty alive, fresh and new. When one flower is about to fall away – he takes it and put another in its place. That is how my life has been. God has always showed up.

Now I’m not saying God showed up when I wanted him to. He choses when and decides how he will move in and out of one’s life. That’s what I love about God the most. No matter how lonely I feel or how hurt I am – he loves me so much that he will refresh my life if only I will not get in the way. Because you know we do like to mess it up. With thoughts of “I got this” or “I can fix this” – but really it should be more like “God – I give it to you” – because God has got it covered already. So why work so hard? Right.

Have you ever felt like someone is watching you? I get that some times. Now as my faith has grown I believe it’s God in his relentless watch over me and his desire to keep me close. In this chapter Lucado refers to the word “follow” – God is following us. I laughed out loud at that statement, because as many of you know I am on Twitter a lot. And on Twitter people “follow” you so they can see what you have to say.

Ironically I always think it’s so funny that people want to know what I have to say. But in thinking about God as a follower of me – just felt so weird. So I envisoned seeing my follow list and seeing God there. And I got sense that God is following me. Sometimes feverishly following me, pushing me, pulling me here and there. Giving me life. Keeping me vulnerable to Him.

I love that about God. Because without his relentless pursuit – life wouldn’t be worth living. So the next time you think someone is following you, turn around and envision God – because He is there and will be there anytime you need him. I know. Boy do I know.

until next time

m

 

The Burden of Envy

Chapter 16 of Max Lucado’s Traveling Light

The Burden of Envy

My cup overflows with blessings. – Psalm 23:5 NLT

 

In this chapter Lucado writes a little about envy, the measure of our cup thrown in with a little grace and mercy. So as I began to formulate how I would speak to this as it plays out in a grieving parents life; I will start with envy and how it distorted my perception.

Shortly after my mother died I gave birth to my only child Brittany. I was so angry because my mother didn’t make it long enough to see her only daughter give birth. She died September 16th just 2-1/2 months before Brittany’s birth. I recall sitting in Brittany’s nursery just rocking and rocking, my  mind somewhere in a place that I couldn’t crawl out of. I was so very sad and so very mad at God.

In the months after Brittany’s birth I would be out with Brittany and I would see the new mothers with their mothers walking at the mall, or at a restaurant and the wave of jealousy would well up inside me. I would cry uncontrollably because my mom was not with me and I envied them. I would think “they don’t know how lucky they are to have their mother”. Sometimes I would hear the young mothers getting angry because their mother was telling them what to do and all I wanted was for my mamma to be there to tell me what to do. I just wanted to scream at them “you don’t know how lucky you are to have your mom with you” – but I didn’t, I just held it all in.

Little did I know that 17 1/2 years later I’d lose my daughter and the pain would come rushing back like I’d just lost my mom and my daughter all at once. I needed my mother more than ever when Brittany died. Yet she was gone too. Both too soon. God chose to take them, and it took a huge measure of faith to believe there was a reason that I might never know, but could have peace with. Just like the early months after my mom died, I again found myself feeling envious of my friends whose daughters were Brittany’s age and they were experiencing all the wonderful things like prom, homecoming, etc. and I was left with nothing.

The pain and emptiness was simply unbearable. I really don’t think anyone ever really understood what I was going through. I stayed at home and never really went out because when I did I saw moms and daughters together and my heart would break all over again. Over and over and over again. And sometimes I would hear moms complaining about their daughters and I would just want to again, scream – ” you are so lucky you still have your daughter”. It made me crazy.

These days I don’t find myself experiencing those feelings much, on a rare occasion, when I get a hug from a dear friend who had a perfume much like my moms I get a little teary eyed because that smell brings back such great memories of being hugged by my mom. A feeling that has been absent from my life for over 22 years. How crappy is that? There is nothing like the love of a mother. The hug that makes everything alright. And that was robbed from at a critical time in my life. My best friend gone. I was so angry with God.

So you can imagine when Brittany died, I struggled with why, how, what possible purpose was it that God felt He needed her more than me. You have to understand that my daughter was everything to me. As I sit here writing this, tears streaming down my face, I am still so very sad at the emptiness in my heart that has been left by her absence. I try very hard to not be envious of my friends, my family anybody that has a daughter. I try very hard to see that even in the midst of my horrendous grief, I can see God’s mercy. To see His grace given to me to comfort me even when I feel so terrible. When my heart hurts and the pain is unbearable I can still see that God loves me and that he wants to bestow his grace and mercy on my life. To fill up that cup so it runneth over.

It’s a daily process my friends to keep moving forward and it begins with gratitude. In a recent leadership summit at my church I heard a speaker say “make a list of what you are grateful for and don’t stop until you get to 100 things” – I’m thinking wow how tough will that be. Although it seems to be a daunting task to list more than 100 things, I will say that when I do stop and see what great things he had done for me these past few years, I cannot help but believe that, although the pain in my heart is hard to bear, the love God bestows me daily takes away the sting.

Lucado ends this chapter with a message that reminds us that we need to keep our cups extended out and to believe and not worry that he will continue to keep them full and overflowing.

Until  next time,

m

The Burden of Disappointment

Chapter 15
Slippery Sheep and Healed Hurts

“You anoint my head with oil.” – Psalm 23:5 NKJV

The continuing blog experience through Max Lucado’s book “Traveling Light

Ok so I have not wanted to write about this chapter. I’ll give you three reasons why – death, loss and disappointment. Not an easy task writing about the events in your life that have caused you such pain, sorrow and misery. Even though the healing has begun, the holes that have been placed upon my heart will forever remain. Which I believe, makes my vision so much clearer when it comes to grief and the disappointment that comes from experiencing loss.

In the three years and seven months since my daughter’s death I have known what is like to have wounds that seem as if they would never heal. That life just couldn’t be the same, or couldn’t be worth living without my daughter’s bright light that made life so worth living for. In the days and weeks after her death, I lost an incredible amount of weight. My clothes became very loose, the skin on my face seemed to just hang like the clothes; the luster gone from my life. The disappointment of my loss was so very visible during this time.

For many months I prayed for God to ease the pain and the space in my heart that ached with every beat. And over time, I felt like the sheep in Lucado’s story – the shepherd bathed the sheep with oil to keep the bugs from attacking them while they grazed on the pastures. For me God began in subtle ways to bathe my heart with His oil. And slowly but surely I began to come back into the light. But the light, it was hazy and not very bright. Something was missing and I couldn’t see because the pain was still so very evident as I moved throughout my days.

The sorrow still very present, although I was becoming very good at hiding it. So many things had gone wrong in my life for so long, I couldn’t see clearly anymore – life had become this vast space of nothing to me. I was able to work without too  much difficulty, which was a blessing. I had seen such a financial fall out from her death that having a job and being able to work kept me busy. But underneath – life was meaningless.

But God being who He is continued to bathe my wounded heart with oil and I began to gain weight and I looked a little healthier. I even began exercising again. Exercise had always meant a great deal to me and it gave me a way to “work out” my pain. Even though I was still grieving terribly over the loss of my daughter, my life and everything I held dear to me; I still could see I was moving toward a new life. The oil was working.

Lucado mentions something interesting in this chapter and I found it very helpful and a reminder that I am still being covered with oil, that God is still on task – taking care of His sheep. Lucado says this about life “The large portion of our problems are not lion-sized attacks, but rather the day-to-day swarm of frustrations and mishaps and heartaches.” I was reminded that even though I have come a long way in my grief, it’s the everyday life that can still hold you back from enjoying the life God intended if you don’t stay focused on Him. Let Him bathe you with the oil.

“If the Gospels teach us anything, they teach us that Jesus is a Good Shepherd” Lucado writes. I know God has seen me through some incredibly difficult times over my many years. I also know that God has a wonderful life still prepared for me, and my job, it’s pretty simple really. I just have to believe. I have to be willing to be bathed with the oil. I have to give up control and let God do what He does best. Heal.

until next time,

m

The Burden of Shame

Chapter 14
The Crowing Rooster and Me
A Journey through the burden of shame…..

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. – Psalm 23:5 NKJV

 

I’ll have to admit this wasn’t an easy chapter to read nor to write about. There was one sentence though that really struck me and that is: “The one who will speak with power is weeping in pain.” In this chapter Lucado speaks about Peter’s betrayal of Jesus and how horribly shameful Peter must have felt. Jesus was already fully aware that Peter was going to betray him even before Peter did. As it is written we know that: “But Jesus said, ‘Peter, before the rooster crows this day, you will say three times that you don’t know me.'” Luke 22:33-34

After reading this chapter I realized that even though the many times I have drifted away from God, how many times I felt broken because I wondered if He cared enough for me. Throughout my life, the times when life was just barely worth living, when all around me life was crashing in, I would look up and ask God “Where are you?” “Don’t you care about me anymore?” But the one thing I’ve never, ever done is deny God. I may have been crushed by life, but I have never given up hope.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve come very close to giving up because the burden of life had become extraordinarily hard to bear. Loss after loss life seemed full of tragedy and failure for me. Even as a young child and moving through the many years of life I have often wondered if I was even suppose to be here on this earth. What possible reason would it serve to continue when my heart was so broken, my soul so lost and my life bleeding out before anyone to see. Yet I am still here.

Lucado speaks of that place where one goes when they feel they have betrayed God with sin. That in our boasting we proclaim that we no longer will do whatever it was that brought us such shame. Yet rather than resisting the temptation, we return to it. Then we again relive the cycle of hearing the “rooster crow” and the “conviction of our sin” and then we weep. We go back to our old lives because it is what we know. And for me one of the most gut-wrenching statements, Lucado states “And we question whether Jesus has a place for folks like us.” I too somedays when I feel lost, I ask that same question. Have I gone so far that there is no way back.

Lucado goes on to show us through Peter’s conviction and Jesus’ grace we all, no matter what we have done, have a place at the table with our God. The one who made us and the one that loves us – unconditionally. I know that at times a hurting soul finds that hard to believe. Trust me I know it well. But I also believe in the most simplistic truth – God loves me and I hold onto that every single second, minute of every single day. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to keep moving forward.

until next time

m

Fear of Life

To the extent that we reject anything we love solely because of what we fear, we’re all like Melanie. Find a place in your life where you’re practicing experiential avoidance, an absence where you wish there were something wonderful. Then commit to the process of getting it, including any inherent anxiety or sadness. Get on an airplane not because you’re convinced it won’t crash, but because meeting your baby niece is worth a few hours of terror. Sit on the beach with your mocha latte, humming the song you shared with your ex, and let grief wash through you until your memories are more sweet than bitter. Pursue your dreams not because you’re immune to heartbreak but because your real life, your whole life, is worth getting your heart broken a few thousand times. By Martha Beck
O, The Oprah Magazine  |  February 15, 2006

Burden of Loneliness

Chapter 13

Silent Nights and Solitary Days

The Burden of Loneliness

You are with me. – Psalm 23:4 NKJV

****** Warning ***** this will be a very real and painful look at what loneliness looks like ************** if it makes you uncomfortable – then do something about it *****

  • Here are some great excerpts from Max Lucado’s Traveling Light:
  • A person can be surrounded by a church and still be lonely.
  • Loneliness is not the absence of faces.
  • It is the absence of intimacy.
  • Loneliness doesn’t come from being alone; it comes from feeling alone.
  • Feeling as if you are: facing death alone; facing disease alone; facing the future alone.

 

I have and sometimes still do experience all of the above. It sometimes feels like a weight that has become too difficult to bear. I have felt this type of loneliness since my daughter’s death – the still quietness of the house were we lived became so deafening – I had to leave it.

Funny thing is it still follows you wherever you go. Relentless loneliness, even while in the midst of people, is a constant cross to bear. I have tried to shake on numerous occasions, and just when you think you have shaken it off – there it is. Sneaking up on you and reminding you that it will be with you always.

So what do you do with that? Lucado eludes to the fact that perhaps its God’s way of stripping you down so that He can have your full out attention. That God wants you to come to Him with this loneliness that won’t leave you. All the other noise and stuff you’ve tried to distract yourself with hasn’t really been working. I can say I’ve tried just about everything I know. Not much works. Except God.

So why am I still battling this loneliness – fear – oh yeah we discussed that in the previous blog post. Fear keeps me from experiencing connections with people. Why – I have a fear of loss that is profound – because it is what I know. It’s all I know. It has become who I am.

Lucado asks the reader to underline the following words: You Are Not Alone!

“Your family may turn against you, but God won’t. Your friends may betray you, but God won’t. You may feel alone in the wilderness, but you are not. He is with you. And because He is, everything is different, you are different.”

I can say that when I stay focused on God – I can see that. I can feel that. But it is a full-time job to stay focused on God. It is not easy to remain on high-alert 24/7 and not be exhausted.  It’s so easy to turn to earthly things to satisfy the craving for love. But Lucado says this “When you know God loves you, you won’t be desperate for the love of others.”

Lucado uses the analogy of a person hungry who shops at the market on an empty stomach. So does the person who suffers from loneliness. We shop for anything that will satisfy our craving for love. Not because we need it, but because we are hungry for it. I have done that often with so many things, but in the end I still end up feeling lonely.

I have learned that when my eyes are off God, the loneliness is overwhelmingly hard to bear. The quiet is deafening, the pain excruciating, and facing the future alone is dark and scary. So you see – if you know me – you know that the life I had before looks nothing like the life I have now. The once joyous and life-loving person is now just an empty shell. Existing in a space that is narrow and hard to navigate; not the life I had imagined for myself. Would you?

But as I wait on God, I’ll try to keep my eyes on Him and not on the earthly things that have kept me from moving forward.

Until next time

m