Friday, August 08, 2008


Milton, here for Kristy:

Today, Norma is as old as I am! Happy Birthday to you. You are as old as I am!


This is going to be tough to write and it probably will be very tough to read. But I feel I must. Someone needs to read this and I need to write it.

I wrote earlier about how the Lord impressed on me to be careful not to miss the moment. He didn't tell which moment and I was praying and believing for Kristy's healing. I was watching, listening, and straining to make sure I didn't miss the moment.

I could not bear the thought of losing her. Even worse, I could not bear the thought of losing her and her leaving me as a stranger with no dearness or love.

GBM brain tumors are monsters. They rob and kill. They turn the the closest of friends into strangers. Mood changes. Manner changes. Attitude changes. Life changes. It gets worse and then it gets more worse. That is just a brief introduction to GBM brain tumor expectations.

Kristy was having all these symptoms and more. I was told that she would get worse and not recognize anyone and the end was be a mental war with her brain becoming totally destroyed. I will write in another post how she struggled with mental issues that will break your heart.

What about the cloud of peace? Where was the chair of strength? They were there. I promise you. Each day new challenges appeared, and each day God's grace was made strong.

I asked Norma how many times do you think I kissed Kristy during her illness? Norma said, "A million." Over and over I told her that I loved her and she would respond, "I love you." I kissed her from early morning until late night and often through the night.

But the time was approaching that she would not know me. It would be a dark and cold time. Life would change. Strangers would enter the room. Kristy would not be Kristy. I did not want to see Kristy like this. It would not be Kristy. She wanted Milton. She needed Milton. She called for Milton.

The last hours were counting down. Over and over I told her how much I loved her. I kissed her. I smelled her deeply as I could. I nuzzled her neck and smelled even deeper. She knew me. She welcomed me. She wanted me close. We were not strangers yet.

"I love you Kristy with all my mind, my soul, my body, my spirit."

Weakly she responded, "I love you Milton with all my mind, my soul, my body, my spirit."

Every second strains to pass. The seconds move slowly and then they rush. The room becomes surreal. It turns into a holy sacred sanctuary filled with unseen angels and a glory world standing in awe. Her breathing is heavier and longer and deeper.

We exchange assurances of love.

"I love you Kristy."

"I love you Milton," Kristy whispered so weakly and almost without breathe.

She drinks small sips of water through a straw. Her breathing is even more strained.

Sleep approaches. The hospice nurse is watching closely. Medications continue. She sleeps and sleeps heavier. Sunday ends and Monday's light shines in the bedroom. She is sleeping even deeper. Sips of water are too hard to take even if they are dropped by the end of the straw.

I sang to her. I prophesied to her. I told her Jesus was coming and that I would give her hand to Him. The last moments came and passed as I cheered her into heaven.

She was gone. Her last word had been spoken.

She knew me by name. I was not a stranger to her as she entered into heaven.

Her last spoken word was.......

I had witnessed another miracle.


At 5:35 AM, Anonymous Mimi said...

Oh how precious. She was assuring you of her love to comfort you Pastor.Even to the end she could still say "i love you Milton".May God continuing to strenghten you .


Still praying,,

At 7:11 AM, Anonymous Norma McGee said...

Did you stay up past midnight just so that you could officially say that? It is only true until September 29th!!!!!

What did you get me???

By the way--I said "50 million"...

Love you,


At 7:31 AM, Blogger Katherine said...

I read a devotional today and the author penned these words from Natalie Grant's Held.

God always sends a right now message...

"This is what it means to be held. How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life. And you survive. This is what it is to be loved, and to know that the promise was when everything fell, we'd be held."

At 7:59 AM, Blogger brendalottakamaggiebrendan said...

Milton, still praying for you and your family. How lonely and empty your home must feel. I pray that God will fill every empty corner of your heart and give you peace and hope to face every single day.

At 8:55 AM, Blogger Lady-in-the-Making said...

What a beautiful testimony to your enduring love that the last words she spoke were 'I love you, Milton'. I'm sure Kristy wouldn't have had it any other way.

At 8:56 AM, Anonymous Rebecca (Kristy's sister) said...

Milton, I was there - I saw how you loved on Kristy. You never missed the opportunity. She knew she had your love; between you and Jesus, she was wrapped in arms of love.

Norma, happy birthday. Have a wonderful day.


At 9:02 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thanks for continuing to share. I continue to pray for you.
The wedding picture of you two that has been included in several blogs, "from a distance" looks so much like one of my wedding pictures. We are standing at the same angle, my husband had those long handle-bar sideburns, and my dress and hair style was very similar to that of Kristy's in the picture. It was uncanny the first time I saw the picture....I felt a special connection with yal!
I have received several upliffting emails this week that I have wanted to share - but just haven't taken the time to do so - until now.

Be blessed as you enjoy the one below.



by Freda K. Routh

MY HUSBAND drove slowly along the dangerously winding mountain road. Darkness had set in, and as if that were not enough, it began raining -- hard, pouring rain.

It was the end of our first day of travel from our home in Florida to visit our daughter up north.

"I can't understand how I let you talk me into coming this scenic route just so you could take some pictures," I grumbled. "I'll bet there isn't a motel within a hundred miles of here."

"I'm sorry, dear," my husband said. "We'll find some place to get out of it soon."

What an inane thing to say, I thought. He must know we are umpteen miles from anybody!

A moment later, we rounded a curve and saw, sitting a few yards back from the road, two wooden buildings. One was a small grocery store, the other a weather-beaten cabin. A dim light came from one of the cabin windows.

"Maybe we can get a room here for the night," my husband said hopefully, as he pulled up in front of the dismal-looking place.

"It doesn't look like much of a house," I said. "There's probably one room in the whole thing."

By the light of the flashlight, we sloshed our way from the car to the wooden steps and up to the square of the porch. I shuddered at the bleakness of the place.

A solomn-faced, middle-aged women answered my husband's knock. An elderly man sat silently rocking in a chair in th drably furnished room beyond.

Did she have a room we could rent for the night? In answer to my husband's query, the woman showed us a small shed-room with two cots in it at the back of the house. It was not much of a room, but it was better than being out on the road on a night like this.

My husband brought in our overnight bags and the woman led us back again to the room. We thanked her and closed the creaking door. At least, I admitted grudgingly, there were clean linens on the cots, and warm blankets.

My husband undressed, got into his cot, and immediately fell asleep. I undressed more slowly, sitting on the side of my cot and I looked mournfully around at the roughly made room. Part of the joy of these trips we make every so often, I ruminated, is in spending several nights in the beautiful modern motels along out ususal route. Now, here we are, stranded in these dark and dismal mountains.

Glancing up at the bare walls, I noticed, hanging on one of them, a lobsided, framed saying from one of the Psalms: "Weeping may endure for the night, but joy cometh in the morning."

An ironical smile touched my lips, as I switched off the overhanging light, lay down, and pulled the blanket up around my chin.

The next thing I knew, it was morning. Yellow sunshine streamed across my cot. Outsides, it seemed that all the birds in the world had congregated to sing out their joy at the dawn of a new day.

I had just finished dressing when my husband, camera in hand, came through the door. His face had the radiant look of a child who had just opened a hoped-for Christmas present. "Honey,' he said, "come out on the front porch if you want to see something beautiful."

As we passed through the other room, the smiling woman, bent over a cookstove, called out, "Your breakfast will be ready soon."

And the elderly man, the woman's father, who had seemed so glum the night before, added cheerfully, "Hot biscuits! And she can make them better than anyone else in the world."

Out on the porch, the scene that met my eyes almost took my breath away. We were practically at the very end of a range of mountains. Looking off into the distance, I saw opalescent lakes dotting the valleys between the majestic peaks. Stately emerald-colored evergreen trees preened their water-jeweled branches in the morning sun. Close by, a sparkling waterfall swooshed down a rocky wall to tumble noisily into a shining river below.

Everywhere we looked there was unbelievable beauty and majesty. Letting my eyes gaze roam around the outside of the cabin I saw a mass of brilliantly colored flowers. Rainbow-hued butterflies flitted in and around the flowering shrubs and flowers that had been tastefully planted here and there.

"Why, it's beautiful" I gasped. "And last night I thought it was so ugly."

Many times my thoughts have gone back to this experience, especially at those times when I badly needed inspiration in working out some problem that seemed to be too much for me; and the memory has never failed to give me a lift.

All we ever need to "get through what has been termed our "dark nights of the soul" is to remember that no night lasts forever; morning will come, and with it a renewal of our faith in the beauties of life, beauties that are always there, hidden only by the dark curtain of our human doubts and fears. Truly, "joy cometh in the morning!"

At 10:19 AM, Anonymous Joe said...

I continue to pray for you. I am so amazed and blessed and my heart is being changed forever as I read the way the God is leading you through this time.

At 10:28 AM, Blogger DayleShockley said...

Well that has me looking for a Kleenex. What a miracle, and I don't believe it would have happened had you not been there by her side, day in and day out, night after night, reassuring her of your presence, smothering her with familiar kisses. You determined not to become a stranger to her, and the Lord honored your faithfulness--not only in life, but in death.

Today is my 28th wedding anniversary. Hubby and I are heading out on a weekend trip. Thanks to you and Kristy, I've never been more aware of how precious our time together is.

Praying for you all.

Thanks for sharing.

At 11:07 AM, Anonymous Sylvia Thomas said...

Dear Brother Milton,
My heart was so deeply touched by what you shared of those last sacred moments! Balancing the worst(losing Kristy) with the best(her recognition of you till the very end of her earthly life, against all odds!) was a most special gift from Heavenly Father to a loving & faithful husband & his precious wife. As she was passing, Kristy was aware that she was not among strangers, but with those who loved her deeply. She knew that the promise made over 36 yrs ago, "in sickness & in health", was being fulfilled to the very last moment and it gave her great peace! She is not lost, but transferred and awaitng the arrival of her hero husband! Now, it is SHE who cheers you on! My prayers for you include the overwhelmimg comfort of the Holy Spirit to your aching heart, mind, and body. Only He can heal you in your anguish! You are an inspiration to us all! God bless you & yours!
In His love, Sylvia & Mark Thomas

At 12:56 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

What precious love you and Kristy shared for each other and God.

You were soulmates. From the words I read, you loved Christ and each other completely.

Each day that passes, the razor sharp edges of grief will lessen a tiny bit.

My daughter Lisa and I are praying for you.

At 1:05 PM, Blogger Karen Eve said...

Praying for y'all - daily. It is so miraculous that although I know there were difficult times, that Kristy was not totally robbed or her ability to recognize and know you. That was such a great gift for everyone. I know it was pretty bad, even with that, but Daddy God was so gracious, even in her affliction. I know He didn't give her cancer and I don't why she wasn't healed here on earth, but I do know that He loves you and is holding you up. He has definitely sent the Holy Spirit to help you continue the work. It's here in the writing you're doing in this blog. Milton, I know that you were one blessed man to have Kristy as your wife, but she was also blessed to have you as her husband. You are a hero, and you continue to show that daily. I just want to bless the work of your hands today and everyday, as you continue to follow the path that our Father is setting before you, faithful and know that as Kristy has already heard "Well done", you will also hear it some day when it's your turn. Blessings on you and your family.

At 3:09 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

You and Kristy have the most beautiful love story, and it's a blessing to see how God has worked in your lives. Words cannot begin to express how you have touched each of us who come to this blog. I believe many lives are changed because of you and your faith in our Lord and Savior.

God bless,
Nan S.

At 3:13 PM, Blogger Margo Carmichael said...

I am so, so glad you could be right there to minister your love and God's to her. What a blessed good-bye. For now.

God bless~

At 9:50 PM, Anonymous Lisa said...

God is so good isn't He.

At 9:55 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Your post brought me to tears, dear brother. But what a blessing that the last words you heard from your beloved's lips were, "I love you, Milton." Of course, Kristy is healed in heaven now, but I know your heart longs for her. To hear her voice, feel her touch. You're in our prayers. Our hearts are with you through this journey.

At 10:30 PM, Blogger Gayle said...

A moving post. Thanks for sharing so personally about your miracle in the midst of your great loss.

At 11:48 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...


Thank you, thank you for being so real. Your sharing is touching and reaching those of which you aren't even aware. You're fulfilling a desire of Kristy's - to keep on keepin' on, though it's tough and the tears flow easily - as Kristy so aptly said..."GOD IS SOOOOOO GOOD." (and He is.)

I'm praying for you...
Cathy (in Tennessee)

At 12:47 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I am so happy you were loved right up to the very end--the new beginning.

I hope you won't mind me asking for prayer here...but without going into detail, I am verbally and emotionally abused by my "husband".

Your stories of such beautiful married love give so much joy and contentment to my own life and day.

At 4:39 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...


My prayers continue for you, and your and Kristy's family. Thank you for sharing something so deeply personal. I'm so grateful God allowed her to remember you and your shared love, and she could say it.

You said someone needed to read this post. Maybe it was me. I've been fighting GBM since last year. WHile I continue to pray for healing, it is so good to know that memory can be preserved. Nancy

At 4:12 AM, Blogger Barbara J. Robinson said...

You described so well the hardest part of having to watch loved ones near the end. Kristy's passing was a miracle--a miracle of God's love and yours. She was one lucky woman to be so blessed, but then luck had nothing to do with it.



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