There are over 100 mentions of the word "widow" in the Bible. Up until 2 months ago, I mostly pictured widows as little old ladies, and I felt very sorry for them. I never thought I'd fit into this category - especially not this early in my life.
But here I am, a widow. I struggle calling myself that.
To specifically mention this word over and over again in His Word, God must know that a widow's pain requires much help from His followers. I have never been one to willingly receive help from others - I felt I could either take care of myself or I would at least repay any help I did accept. Now, in this stage of life, I realize that those offering their assistance to me are truly doing what is Biblical.
It says in James 1:27, "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orhans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."
All I can offer to the countless people who have given so freely of yourselves in my greatest hour of need is my sincere gratitude and a humble request that God richly bless your generosity. You have encouraged me with hundreds of cards, emails and Facebook messages, texts, and phone calls. You have sustained me with meals, gifts, donations and just your presence. You have given me your shoulder to sob on and have prayed for me often. You have even labored physically to help me with house chores. God has used you to make some sense out of what seems like unsurmountable circumstances, to bring light to my darkness, and to one day help me to rise from these ashes of tragedy.
I may never know all you have done for my family and I. I may never be able to return the kindness. But I know the One who knows everything you have done, and I am confident that He is well pleased.
Dearly loved widow,
Melissa
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Monday, May 17, 2010
Maleeka
My friend, Steph, and her husband Tim call me Maleeka. Maleeka? Yes, Maleeka. She is a dear, dear friend, who I met in South Florida, and now lives in Pittsburg. Yes, Maleeka is a crazy name for those of you who see me as some poised Southern gal. Let me just give you a glimpse of our friendship...
She and I mail a stuffed "Henry the Talking Garden Gnome" back and forth, being sure to add a new accessory onto him every time and record a message in his belly that comes out in chipmunk language. Garden gnomes are long standing jokes among us - take no offense if you have garden gnomes in your yard - just know that if Steph ever discovers them, she is bound to take a picture and send it to me.
She couldn't make it to my 30th birthday surprise that sweet Tony planned for me. Instead, she mailed me Henry, along with my birthday gift, and paperdoll cut-out with her face glued to it. She was affectionately called "Flat Steph" and appeared in all my birthday photos.
She's the friend who will make you "pee" your pants over laughing so hard.
She's also the friend who rearranged her whole world so that she and her husband could drive 10+ hours to be here in time for the weekend of Tony's funeral. They were part of my "entourage" standing behind me at the visitation at the funeral home, at one point feeding a banana to sustain me. God used them to keep me standing that day and I am so very grateful.
I hope everyone can have a friend like Steph. She gives so freely one of the greatest gifts we can experience on this earth - laughter. She is another Proverbs 31 woman who can "laugh at the days to come."
Laughter seems like something my grieving soul should not experience right now. Yet, I find myself laughing almost every day. Actually, the day after the funeral, the day I absolutely dreaded for I did not know what it would bring, was filled with laughter. Over the course of the day visiting with friends and family, we laughed til we cried about the funny things my husband did over the years. He was unique in every way, and now that I look back and continue to hear new stories, I must admit all his quirks were very funny. If he were here, he'd be laughing too. He had this big belly laugh that was so infectious.
So even through my tears and my pain, I will choose to laugh every opportunity I can. And I better get my stomach muscles ready for a lot of laughter because I'm heading up to see Steph in just a couple weeks...
Dearly loved,
Maleeka
She and I mail a stuffed "Henry the Talking Garden Gnome" back and forth, being sure to add a new accessory onto him every time and record a message in his belly that comes out in chipmunk language. Garden gnomes are long standing jokes among us - take no offense if you have garden gnomes in your yard - just know that if Steph ever discovers them, she is bound to take a picture and send it to me.
She couldn't make it to my 30th birthday surprise that sweet Tony planned for me. Instead, she mailed me Henry, along with my birthday gift, and paperdoll cut-out with her face glued to it. She was affectionately called "Flat Steph" and appeared in all my birthday photos.
She's the friend who will make you "pee" your pants over laughing so hard.
She's also the friend who rearranged her whole world so that she and her husband could drive 10+ hours to be here in time for the weekend of Tony's funeral. They were part of my "entourage" standing behind me at the visitation at the funeral home, at one point feeding a banana to sustain me. God used them to keep me standing that day and I am so very grateful.
I hope everyone can have a friend like Steph. She gives so freely one of the greatest gifts we can experience on this earth - laughter. She is another Proverbs 31 woman who can "laugh at the days to come."
Laughter seems like something my grieving soul should not experience right now. Yet, I find myself laughing almost every day. Actually, the day after the funeral, the day I absolutely dreaded for I did not know what it would bring, was filled with laughter. Over the course of the day visiting with friends and family, we laughed til we cried about the funny things my husband did over the years. He was unique in every way, and now that I look back and continue to hear new stories, I must admit all his quirks were very funny. If he were here, he'd be laughing too. He had this big belly laugh that was so infectious.
So even through my tears and my pain, I will choose to laugh every opportunity I can. And I better get my stomach muscles ready for a lot of laughter because I'm heading up to see Steph in just a couple weeks...
Dearly loved,
Maleeka
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Waves of Mercy...
I must admit this title makes me chuckle a little as I recall that old worship song that goes... "waves of mercy, waves of grace, everywhere I look I see your face..." It brings back memories of a church camp I volunteered at in college "Impact" where I sang that song so much I thought my arms were gonna wave off!
I digress already. Actually, I just returned from some beautiful and amazing waves of the ocean at Destin Beach with a few of my girlfriends. It was a welcome retreat from the craziness of the last 8 weeks - yes, Tuesday will be 8 weeks from the accident. My how life can change so much so quickly. The weekend was filled with waves of emotion - a constant sadness and sense of someone missing, coupled with moments of girly laughter and sweet times reflecting on my Creator God.
I feel so close to God at the beach. Looking at the vast ocean puts me in complete wonder and awe at how big God is, and how small I am. Yet, He knows me by name.
The waves on this particular trip were probably some of the roughest I have witnessed on the Gulf. It reminded me of the waves off the northern shore of California that Tony and I saw last summer on our trip down the West Coast. The roar of the ocean was almost deafening on that cold, foggy shore. We were the only 2 on the entire beach - just us and God. Tony was so intrigued with the small rocks that kept washing up on shore - instead of seashells - they were the smoothest rocks, black, white and gray in color. We picked them up and brought them home like priceless treasures.
It was like those waters were too rough for delicate seashells - God had to produce rocks instead. I feel like I am one of those rocks - tossed and turned by waves pounding the sand, yet producing the smoothest surface, like choice granite, over time. One day those waves will be stilled just like Jesus stilled the storm for the disciples. I cling to the verses in Ps. 107: 29-31, "He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were hushed. They were glad when it grew calm, and he guided them to their desired haven. Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for men."
Driving home tonight, I had on repeat on my Ipod Shane & Shane's song "Mercy Reigns" as I thought about those ocean waves. They rise and fall, over and over again, just like God's mercy and love. And as it says in the song, they are "new every morning...it's good enough for me."
Dearly loved ocean pebble,
Melissa
I digress already. Actually, I just returned from some beautiful and amazing waves of the ocean at Destin Beach with a few of my girlfriends. It was a welcome retreat from the craziness of the last 8 weeks - yes, Tuesday will be 8 weeks from the accident. My how life can change so much so quickly. The weekend was filled with waves of emotion - a constant sadness and sense of someone missing, coupled with moments of girly laughter and sweet times reflecting on my Creator God.
I feel so close to God at the beach. Looking at the vast ocean puts me in complete wonder and awe at how big God is, and how small I am. Yet, He knows me by name.
The waves on this particular trip were probably some of the roughest I have witnessed on the Gulf. It reminded me of the waves off the northern shore of California that Tony and I saw last summer on our trip down the West Coast. The roar of the ocean was almost deafening on that cold, foggy shore. We were the only 2 on the entire beach - just us and God. Tony was so intrigued with the small rocks that kept washing up on shore - instead of seashells - they were the smoothest rocks, black, white and gray in color. We picked them up and brought them home like priceless treasures.
It was like those waters were too rough for delicate seashells - God had to produce rocks instead. I feel like I am one of those rocks - tossed and turned by waves pounding the sand, yet producing the smoothest surface, like choice granite, over time. One day those waves will be stilled just like Jesus stilled the storm for the disciples. I cling to the verses in Ps. 107: 29-31, "He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were hushed. They were glad when it grew calm, and he guided them to their desired haven. Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for men."Driving home tonight, I had on repeat on my Ipod Shane & Shane's song "Mercy Reigns" as I thought about those ocean waves. They rise and fall, over and over again, just like God's mercy and love. And as it says in the song, they are "new every morning...it's good enough for me."
Dearly loved ocean pebble,
Melissa
Monday, May 10, 2010
Dreaming of paint cans...
A few nights ago I had my first dream with Tony in it since his death. It was a bittersweet moment to wake up. How I longed to go back to sleep, yet my alarm clock was telling me otherwise. Recounting the dream in this blog would require too much to write and too much to explain, so I will simply say it was filled with sweet moments and sweet dreams of memories shared with my husband.
I did vividly recall at one point in my dream a clear vision of Tony carrying cans of paint. There were at least 3 cans of the brightest colors - red (UGA red, of course!), blue, and yellow. I found this quite random when I awoke, but that quickly changed to a great sense of awe.
I have said over and over again that my current view of life without Tony is a giant white canvas that God will paint again in time. Those paint cans represent some of the vivid colors God will use to create a beautiful picture with my life. What is even cooler is that these are the basic primary colors, from which all other colors are created. And, God used my sweet husband to deliver those to me to remind me that Tony will always be a part of my life - his values and his life mission are intertwined with mine for eternity.
Now I will wait until I receive a can opener, a paint brush, and a vision of what to paint. Time will tell...
Dearly loved painter,
Melissa
I did vividly recall at one point in my dream a clear vision of Tony carrying cans of paint. There were at least 3 cans of the brightest colors - red (UGA red, of course!), blue, and yellow. I found this quite random when I awoke, but that quickly changed to a great sense of awe.
I have said over and over again that my current view of life without Tony is a giant white canvas that God will paint again in time. Those paint cans represent some of the vivid colors God will use to create a beautiful picture with my life. What is even cooler is that these are the basic primary colors, from which all other colors are created. And, God used my sweet husband to deliver those to me to remind me that Tony will always be a part of my life - his values and his life mission are intertwined with mine for eternity.
Now I will wait until I receive a can opener, a paint brush, and a vision of what to paint. Time will tell...
Dearly loved painter,
Melissa
Sunday, May 9, 2010
My Mom
There is no greater woman on this earth to me than my mom. She is a priceless treasure, no words can adequately describe how much she means to me. No words.
She is the constant in my life that keeps me going, giving me encouragement when I need it, wisdom and tough advice at just the right times, and hugs that make the bad days seem a little more bearable. She has walked with me through the best days of my life, and she has walked with me through the worst. I collapsed into her lap the moment I found out that Tony was gone. Her only words were that she wished she could take away my pain. And I know she meant every word.
Oh, how I just adore every moment I can spend with her - no matter if we're walking on the beach or just watching endless hours of HGTV. Tony doted on her too - and she was one of his biggest fans and supporters. I am so blessed to call her mom.
She is a Proverbs 31 woman, and since there really are no words more fitting, I will leave today's blog with these verses:
"She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: 'Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.' Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. " ~ Proverbs 31: 25-30
Dearly loved, and so grateful for my mom,
Melissa
She is the constant in my life that keeps me going, giving me encouragement when I need it, wisdom and tough advice at just the right times, and hugs that make the bad days seem a little more bearable. She has walked with me through the best days of my life, and she has walked with me through the worst. I collapsed into her lap the moment I found out that Tony was gone. Her only words were that she wished she could take away my pain. And I know she meant every word.
Oh, how I just adore every moment I can spend with her - no matter if we're walking on the beach or just watching endless hours of HGTV. Tony doted on her too - and she was one of his biggest fans and supporters. I am so blessed to call her mom.
She is a Proverbs 31 woman, and since there really are no words more fitting, I will leave today's blog with these verses:
"She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: 'Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.' Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. " ~ Proverbs 31: 25-30
Dearly loved, and so grateful for my mom,
Melissa
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
My companion through grief...
I've been slow to blog this week quite frankly because I've had some really hard days. If you live in Atlanta, you know what a lousy day Monday was with all the rain, then add on top of it frustration and sorrow, and that pretty much sums up my day.
I started back to work on Tuesday, and have yet to make it a full day. I sit at my desk in a daze wondering what to do, and just when I start on a task, half the time, I forget what I was doing. I rest my head in my hands, or sometimes start pulling at my hair. I had no idea it would be this hard to do something "normal" again. About that time, there's a knock at my door from one of my dear colleagues - a welcome interruption and a smile. I have never been so grateful for this team of folks who I know would do anything to help. We always talk about being a part of the Brenau family, but I now can attest to that in every sense of the word. Brenau University is taking very good care of its own, and I cannnot thank them enough.
So, I venture back into this everyday task of life, yet my world is turned upside down. Yes, I hold to the HOPE that life will get brighter and that God will never leave me or forsake me. Yet, what do I do in the meantime? What do I do with all the normal, everyday, and sometimes mundane moments of life that used to pass by so quickly, yet now seem like an eternity? How do I walk through everyday life and my grief at the same time?
The answer, best I know, comes from my daily companion, my Bible. Yes, I know that seems like a "good little church girl" answer, but it truly is my Source and my Life right now, and I hope forever. The week after Tony's funeral, I went searching on Amazon to find some books on grief to help me walk through this time. Then, my good friend Tammy told me that she had been challenged to read through the entire Bible in 40 days. It occurred to me that the best words to walk me through this hard journey are that of the living and breathing Word of God. It is the first thing I read in the morning and the last thing I read at night, sometimes drifting to sleep with my Bible on my chest.
This week, I have been pushing through the book of Numbers. Pushing myself, yes, pushing. As I read many times before about the Israelites and all of their complaining in the desert, I always thought they were just a bunch of whiners. Now as I read through all the repetitive commands and tasks they were asked to do day after day, I feel sorry for them. I mean, who wouldn't complain about what seems like a very mundane life of sacrificing animals and moving their tents from place to place, all in hopes of the "Promised Land" that only the generation after them would get to see. There was no talk of heaven and of an eternal life with God. What did they hope for in the midst of everyday life?
My constant praise through reading all of the early chapters in the Bible is one of thanksgiving to God for sending His Son as the Ultimate Sacrifice, giving us a Hope and a Future that far exceeds anything on this earth. Yet, I am also very grateful for those Israelites living through those every day experiences as a people "set apart" by God as His chosen ones. They lived for promises yet to be fulfilled, and I live for a promise of eternity that has already been fulfilled by Jesus. Tony is living in that promise now.
And if God can speak to me through Numbers, then I can't wait to get to the chapters ahead.
Dearly loved, and loving the Word,
Melissa
I started back to work on Tuesday, and have yet to make it a full day. I sit at my desk in a daze wondering what to do, and just when I start on a task, half the time, I forget what I was doing. I rest my head in my hands, or sometimes start pulling at my hair. I had no idea it would be this hard to do something "normal" again. About that time, there's a knock at my door from one of my dear colleagues - a welcome interruption and a smile. I have never been so grateful for this team of folks who I know would do anything to help. We always talk about being a part of the Brenau family, but I now can attest to that in every sense of the word. Brenau University is taking very good care of its own, and I cannnot thank them enough.
So, I venture back into this everyday task of life, yet my world is turned upside down. Yes, I hold to the HOPE that life will get brighter and that God will never leave me or forsake me. Yet, what do I do in the meantime? What do I do with all the normal, everyday, and sometimes mundane moments of life that used to pass by so quickly, yet now seem like an eternity? How do I walk through everyday life and my grief at the same time?
The answer, best I know, comes from my daily companion, my Bible. Yes, I know that seems like a "good little church girl" answer, but it truly is my Source and my Life right now, and I hope forever. The week after Tony's funeral, I went searching on Amazon to find some books on grief to help me walk through this time. Then, my good friend Tammy told me that she had been challenged to read through the entire Bible in 40 days. It occurred to me that the best words to walk me through this hard journey are that of the living and breathing Word of God. It is the first thing I read in the morning and the last thing I read at night, sometimes drifting to sleep with my Bible on my chest.
This week, I have been pushing through the book of Numbers. Pushing myself, yes, pushing. As I read many times before about the Israelites and all of their complaining in the desert, I always thought they were just a bunch of whiners. Now as I read through all the repetitive commands and tasks they were asked to do day after day, I feel sorry for them. I mean, who wouldn't complain about what seems like a very mundane life of sacrificing animals and moving their tents from place to place, all in hopes of the "Promised Land" that only the generation after them would get to see. There was no talk of heaven and of an eternal life with God. What did they hope for in the midst of everyday life?
My constant praise through reading all of the early chapters in the Bible is one of thanksgiving to God for sending His Son as the Ultimate Sacrifice, giving us a Hope and a Future that far exceeds anything on this earth. Yet, I am also very grateful for those Israelites living through those every day experiences as a people "set apart" by God as His chosen ones. They lived for promises yet to be fulfilled, and I live for a promise of eternity that has already been fulfilled by Jesus. Tony is living in that promise now.
And if God can speak to me through Numbers, then I can't wait to get to the chapters ahead.
Dearly loved, and loving the Word,
Melissa
Friday, April 30, 2010
Brave!
I was driving down I-85 this morning listening to Nicole Nordeman's song "Brave" on my way to meet a good friend and mentor, Mark, so that we could visit Tony's EMBA class at Emory for lunch. Since the funeral, I really haven't been around anyone but close friends and family, so I was a bit anxious about my visit. Yet, I had an overwhelming peace that God would be with me as I listened to the words of this song, and I asked that God would make me brave today. Brave, yes, brave.
We arrived to meet the EMBA program director, Steve, and several of his colleagues. He presented me with the sweetest cards and contribution from Tony's classmates, and a very kind gesture from the University...wow, all I can say is wow. Thank you. I am so very grateful to be a part of this community that Tony poured his heart into for 3 months and look forward to continuing to track with his classmates as they labor and toil over what I pray becomes a major catalyst for the rest of their lives. Stay the course, my friends, stay the course.
We arrived at lunch and Steve pointed out the podium that they had set up in case I wanted to say a few words. "Say a few words" was not even on my radar this morning when I prayed to be brave. I tried to pass it off on Mark, but with no success, I figured that I had nothing to loose if I broke down - surely they would understand. I told Mark that I had absolutely no idea what I was going to say but walked to the podium anyway.
I wish I could tell you what came out of my mouth, but I don't even remember. I do recall looking out at these tired, weary faces - the faces of future CEO's, future world-changers, future dream chasers - with tears in their eyes. It was God reminding me that Tony, in his short time with them, had touched their lives. Tony's number one goal in acheiving his MBA was to build relationships. He had always felt called to minister to top executives, they were his mission field. His Emory classmates either are those top executives already or are on the track to becoming those executives one day. Goal and mission accomplished, my love.
WEMBA Class of 2011, I pray you continue to be brave. Watching Tony struggle and work his tail off for three months in this rigorous program, I know it takes a very brave soul to continue and finish strong. I'm cheering for you, and so is Tony. We greatly anticipate May 9, 2011, your launching point to go further and farther than you ever dreamed possible.
With a grateful heart for Emory and dearly loved,
Melissa
We arrived to meet the EMBA program director, Steve, and several of his colleagues. He presented me with the sweetest cards and contribution from Tony's classmates, and a very kind gesture from the University...wow, all I can say is wow. Thank you. I am so very grateful to be a part of this community that Tony poured his heart into for 3 months and look forward to continuing to track with his classmates as they labor and toil over what I pray becomes a major catalyst for the rest of their lives. Stay the course, my friends, stay the course.
We arrived at lunch and Steve pointed out the podium that they had set up in case I wanted to say a few words. "Say a few words" was not even on my radar this morning when I prayed to be brave. I tried to pass it off on Mark, but with no success, I figured that I had nothing to loose if I broke down - surely they would understand. I told Mark that I had absolutely no idea what I was going to say but walked to the podium anyway.
I wish I could tell you what came out of my mouth, but I don't even remember. I do recall looking out at these tired, weary faces - the faces of future CEO's, future world-changers, future dream chasers - with tears in their eyes. It was God reminding me that Tony, in his short time with them, had touched their lives. Tony's number one goal in acheiving his MBA was to build relationships. He had always felt called to minister to top executives, they were his mission field. His Emory classmates either are those top executives already or are on the track to becoming those executives one day. Goal and mission accomplished, my love.
WEMBA Class of 2011, I pray you continue to be brave. Watching Tony struggle and work his tail off for three months in this rigorous program, I know it takes a very brave soul to continue and finish strong. I'm cheering for you, and so is Tony. We greatly anticipate May 9, 2011, your launching point to go further and farther than you ever dreamed possible.
With a grateful heart for Emory and dearly loved,
Melissa
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)