Once upon a time...

  I sit here this morning with memories flooding my mind.  Some are so good that I wish I could live in those memories again... some are so awful that I wish my mind would erase them. (Where is that DELETE button for memories anyway?)

  16 years ago today, my world changed forever.  I was 21 years old, had two little boys ages 2 and 7 months old.  I was married to Terry Daniel Retz.

  As most young couples starting out, we had our issues and our times of turmoil... but he was my friend and he could make me laugh faster than anyone else could.

  There was rarely a dull moment with him.  He loved to go mountain bike riding and compete in races... the big town of "Gnaw Bone" was one of his favorite places to go riding.  He also loved music (all kinds) and he really loved playing softball.  He was great at it!  I remember when he ran, it was like he had wheels on... rounding the bases with ease and speed.  His favorite part was when he slid into base and got some nasty strawberry rashes as his badge of courage.  "Look!  This is a nice one!  You might have to dig some gravel out of there for me, babe" he would say with a big cheesy grin that was in place to hide the pain.
  He was scared to death when I told him I was pregnant.  Neither one of us were ready to be parents...we were teenagers for crying out loud!  But after the shock and fear faded, and the reality of the upcoming baby set in, he got anxious and excited.  I was due on Jan. 23rd... and I went WAY past my due date. A couple weeks before the baby was born, he said "I think you've made it entirely too comfortable for this kid and it has decided it's not going to be born.  Time to make it uncomfortable!"  He then proceeded to take me for long drives on very bumpy roads every chance he got.  HA!
  He loved Nascar and especially Rusty Wallace.  I have no clue why he liked him so much, but it made for a good rivalry with his brother who was a die-hard Dale Earnhardt fan.  They loved going to races together.  Terry loved his brother so much!  There was about a 10 year age gap between them, but Terry looked up to his older brother.  My favorite memories of the two of them together consist of them getting the giggles at the supper table and having to leave the room to calm down.  Their giggles were contagious... and laughter usually erupted over things that only they found funny.  The rest of us would laugh at their laughter.
  These are all great memories.  I cherish them.  There are a million more where those came from, but I think I'll keep them to myself.  =)

Here are the memories I wish I could erase:

*The phone call from my sister-in-law saying Terry had been in an accident and I needed to get to the hospital.
*The look on the emergency room receptionists face when I gave her my name and Terry's name.
*The look on my father-in-law's face when he told me Terry was dead.
*The feeling I had when my best friend couldn't bear to look me in the eyes and see my pain.
*The tightness of the hug from my brother-in-law in the emergency room and the helplessness that I felt with him sobbing on my shoulder.
*The look on my mother-in-laws face when I had to be honest with the tissue transplant team when they asked me if Terry had taken drugs in the last 48 hours.  (There are some things a mother doesn't want to hear...)
*My two year old son asking me when daddy was coming home... 2 days after he died.
*Cleaning the shaving stubble out of our bathroom sink after he was gone... and thinking how stupid it was for me to get mad about having to clean it up all the times before that.
*The morning after he died, Father's Day 1995, waking to realize it wasn't a bad dream.

  I write this today, 16 years after his death, so that I can remember and so that others can remember with me.  Those who knew him will always miss him.  Those that didn't know him will only be able to hear stories and know bits and pieces of him.  I wish everyone could have known him...

  I have several friends who have lost loved ones and spouses in the last couple of years.  I may not understand all of the circumstances surrounding your pain and experience, but I do understand the feeling of loss and helplessness and fear and uncertainty.  It's as if your whole world has been picked up and shaken.  And now you and you alone are left to find the pieces of your life and put them back together after you thought they were already set in place.  It's scary and daunting.

  There will be times you don't feel like God hears your cries.  He does.  There will be times you feel totally alone.  He promised to NEVER leave you alone and He's there even when you can't feel it.  There will be times when your future is so unclear that you don't even want to go there in your mind, let alone in reality.  He is already there.   Lean on Him because He is steady, strong and unchanging.  He WILL see you through this time.

Secrets

So there's a secret that I've been keeping for a long time now.  It's not a secret to my family and most of my friends already know this about me, but it's not been "out there" for public consumption before now.  Is your curiosity peaked?  Okay... here goes...

I have MS (multiple sclerosis).

I was diagnosed over 10 years ago and I have been in a daily battle with it since then. There are days that I almost feel normal and can continue on with my day as if it doesn't exist.  Then there are times like the past few weeks where it's so big and ugly that it cannot be ignored or forgotten and the battle is raging full force.

I always hesitate and even avoid telling people I carry around this disease because I loathe the look of pity on someone's face.  There's not much worse than feeling pitiful.  So please understand that I'm not spilling my guts here to get pity or sympathy.  "So what's your point in telling people now, Misty?"  Yeah, I asked myself that before I started typing this.  It's a good question.  It's a legitimate question.

In the "addiction/recovery" field, there is a saying that is "You are only as sick as your secrets."  I've thought a lot about that saying in the last few months.  For the most part, it's true.  Secrets can eat at you and cause you to hide things, lie and feel shame and guilt.  Does that mean that EVERYTHING should be placed on the table for public scrutiny??  No way.  Believe me, there are certain things that we, the public, appreciate not knowing!  =)   But there are certain things that are pretty stupid to keep secret.  And it's exhausting!  =)

I was awake at 2:30 this morning because I'm fighting some kind of sinus/cold/head issue and it was coupled with my normal aches and pains and burning sensation and knotted muscles.  (Summer is the absolute WORST time of year for me.  Heat is my enemy!)  I felt  horrible!  I got out of bed, came downstairs and took some medicine and got on my laptop.  Then I did something I have never done before.  I got on facebook, went through my friends list, and prayed for each one of my friends.  A lot of them have issues of life going on and I felt like it was a good time to lift them up and get my focus off of me for a while.  For some of them, I didn't know what to pray, so I just prayed general "blessing" prayers for them.  I wished I knew more specifically what they needed from the Lord.  Then it dawned on me... I'll bet a lot of my friends who know how to pray have no clue what kind of prayers I need!  By keeping this disease a "secret", I've cheated my friends as well as myself out of a blessing!  And that makes me a fool.

So, my awesome friends, if you ever wake in the middle of the night and start praying for your friends and you come to me on your list, you now know what I need prayer for... I need a miracle.  Thanks for your prayers.

An oldie but a goodie!

I had this story in my computer files and thought I would resurrect it.  Enjoy and I hope it makes you think.
( It gets me every time!! )

Author Unknown 

The Room

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room.  There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index cards.  They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order…

But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings…

As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read “People I Have Liked”.  I opened it and began flipping through the cards.  I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one…

And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.  This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life…

Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match.  A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening the files and exploring their content.  Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching…

A file names “Friends” was next to one marked “Friends I Have Betrayed”.  The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird.  “Books I Have Read”, “Lies I Have Told”, “Comfort I Have Given”, “Jokes I Have Laughed At”.  Some were almost hilarious in their exactness:  “Things I’ve Yelled at My Sister”.  Others I couldn’t laugh at:  “Things I Have Done in Anger”, “Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents”…

I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.  Often there were many more cards than I expected.  Sometimes fewer than I hoped…

I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived.  Could it be possible that I had the time in my 30 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards?  But each card confirmed this truth…

Each was written in my own handwriting.  Each signed with my signature…

When I pulled out the file marked “Songs I Have Listened to”, I realized the files grew to contain their contents.  The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the file.  I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of the music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented…

When I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts”, I felt a chill run through my body.  I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card.  I shuddered at its detailed content.  I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded…

An almost animal rage broke in me.  One thought dominated my mind:  “No one must see these cards!  No one must ever see this room!  I have to destroy them!”…

In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out.  Its size didn’t matter now.  I had to empty it and burn the cards.  But as I took the drawer from one end and began pounding it on the ground, I could not dislodge a single card!  I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it strong as steel when I tried to tear it.  Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot…

Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long self-pitying sigh.  And then I saw it.  The title bore “People I Have Shared the Gospel With”.  The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused.  I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands.  I could count the cards it contained on one hand…

And then the tears came.  I began to weep.  Sobs so deep that they hurt started in my stomach and shook through me.  I fell on my knees and cried.  I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all…

The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes.  No one must ever, ever know of this room.  I have to lock it up and hide the key…

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.  No, please not Him.  Not here.  Oh, anyone but Jesus.  I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards.  I couldn’t bear to watch His response.  And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.  He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes.  Why did He have to read every one?

Finally He turned and looked at me across the room.  He looked at me with pity in His eyes.  But this was a pity that didn’t anger me.  I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again…

He walked over and put His arm around me.  He could have said so many things.  But He didn’t say a word.  He just cried with me.  Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files.  Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card…

“NO!” I shouted rushing to Him.  All I could find to say was “No, no” as I pulled the card from Him.  His name shouldn’t be on these cards.  But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive.  The name of Jesus covered mine…

It was written with His blood.  He gently took the card back.  He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards.  I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side…

He said, “It is Finished” and walked out of the room.  There was no lock on the door.  There were still cards to be written…