Tuesday, December 25, 2007


The following was written last night, Christmas Eve...


Picture: On Sunday, Nov. 11, 2007, I told the congregation I have GBM brain cancer.


Tonight, Christmas Eve, the house was noisy with an evening of activities for four excited, adorable children. Busy is a good word to describe it (though I took rest periods throughout and didn't join all the activities). They rode scooters and skated on the driveway, and then we ate supper, and then they glue-glittered their names on red felt Santa hats and stockings for the mantle, and then they took a walk around our neighborhood to see the lights and luminiaries, and then Milton put logs in his chimnea on the deck, and they listened to a children's Christmas CD out there...

Milton grew quiet during the evening, even seemed a little irritated.

The noise? The activity. None of that? Fatigue? Worry?

The time came when they left.

The house was quiet.

A darkness (feeling) seemed to settle over the house.

Maybe I snipped at him first. Maybe he snipped at me first.

I went into the bedroom and got ready for bed.

I felt heavy, leaden. I knew he did, too.

I went into the family room. "Will you sit by me?" I sat down on the sofa and patted the spot beside me? "Can I turn off the TV?"

"I wasn't watching it."

I flicked it off. I turned to him and grasped his hands. "There are powerful truths in children's songs. I want to sing one." I started singing as I pulled on his hands. "When we all shall pull together, together, together. When we all shall pull together, how happy we'll be. For my work is your work, and our work is God's work. When we all shall pull together, how happy we'll be."

His eyes misted but a smile lit his face.

"We're going to make it. We're going to pull together."

He nodded.

"Talk to me. What are you feeling?"

"I read your post today. About Kathy and how we met when we were all newlyweds." A sniffle. "It seems like it was yesterday..."

It came tumbling out as tears trickled down his cheeks (and this man never cries), and my tears were flowing, too. What if he loses me? What'll he do? He needs me. He can't bear the thought. If it happens, he wants to go with me.

"Milton," I said softly, "if God takes me to Heaven, He will provide you with another wife."

"Don't say that," he nearly shouted.

"But it's true."

"I said, 'Don't say that.'"

"She'll be a good one." I knew there was a twinkle in my eye even though they were brimming with tears. "Like me. She'll help you in church work--"

Great tears poured down his cheeks. "If you say anything about that again, I'm...I'm...I'm getting up and leaving this room. DON'T SAY THAT AGAIN. EVER!"

"Okay, okay, I won't. Ever again."

We grabbed each other, both of us crying.


After a little while, I grabbed the phone and called the girls. We all talked, and Milton even said hi to both of Julie's boys, wishing them a merry Christmas, telling them he'd see them tomorrow, and then he said, "Ho, ho, ho," and I could hear them giggling.

He was cheered up.


Now I'm going to go cheer him up in my special way. I'm headed for the bedroom.



At 12:28 PM, Blogger THOMBU1 said...

Kristi, I wrote this prose in a very difficult time in my lfe, and it seemed to minister to me then, and when I am tempted to question why. I want to dedicate this to him. I hope it blesses him today, and by the way, MERRY CHRISTMAS. tom
What Joy Demands

What joy demands, the heart desires. The words spoken gently in the ear bring comfort with their soft refrain. Creating serene thoughts of yesteryear and bringing more innocent times near.

Thoughts keep running through the recesses of the mind, bringing static to the peace that resides there. They bring out the old feelings of fear, where faith has fallen away, and hope keeps its distance in shades of grey. The words of hope, spoken to the heart, keep alive the fire that burns within to achieve what is desired.

There never seems to be the power to achieve the ultimate goals, where the worth of desired results transforms. To keep the faith, in power and love, becomes a chore, when all that life throws at you is realized.

Don’t take it your mind replies, with all the twists of truth and bald faced lies. Yet the lies seem true, when twisted thoughts arise. They must be dealt with and that right now, to keep their subversive actions at bay. Their insidious power to deceive lay waste, and hide behind the semblances of truth that lay along the way. What tones of blue they add to the soul that is bound to feel their sting.

Blue is the soul, and hard is the way of the worrisome fool. They are like the fury of the tempest tossed, their hearts of gold now melted. Cleave to that which is good, and hold on with a passion, to the right ways we’re told. While hungry hearts just desire the thing that makes them happy, and race toward that goal.

Keep truth in front of the eyes of your mind. Bind them to the doorposts of our lives, our habitations of flesh. Wanting and waiting, longing for reprieve, the soul cries out for the pain to leave. Keep calling out to the One who brings hope to the mind, whose power and greatness lies in Love Devine. What joy and peace His heart brings to bear on the soul that is trusting in His love and care.

The truths that He spoke were so pure and clean, they spoke of compassion through lips that were never mean. Hear the great exhortations from the One who hung the moon, the One who has come, and was, and is, and is coming back soon. We never held His words dearly, till the chatter of men poisoned our souls and robbed us of that sweet peace within.

The light of the soul shines bright onto our way, and we see it through eyes that do not appear, but peer through the darkness to visions so clear. There we see what He shows us today, to trust and obey Him along life’s’ difficult stay.

We never are to look back to view yesterday, but learn from the stumbling that hindered our way, and know that His light that shines on our path will lead us to Glory and into His arms.

Blessed Be the Name of The Lord Jesus Christ!!!

At 5:30 PM, Blogger Kristy Dykes said...

THanks, Thomas! Beautiful.


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