Sunday, September 28, 2014


Chappel Hill: my photo
Father, I'm tired. Closing a life drains the soul.  
I'm running back to your side, for only in the still of your presence can I find the fullness of joy.  The Psalmist knew; I'm still learning.
It's time, once again, to practice adage with my Creator. Only in measured discipline can I find strength and Grace. Adagio precedes the variation and the coda.  
No more speeding up the tempo, no more proving to myself and others...returning to a season of rest.

You are a hiding place for me...Psalm 32:7
Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him.  Psalm 62:5
In Your presence is fullness of joy. Psalm 16:11

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Dearest Rob, 

The first day of autumn has come to a close. I dressed your resting place with reds and oranges and golds today, then I went home and unpacked all those boxes of pumpkins we've collected throughout the years. I've never had the house decorated on the first day of fall! Can you believe? As I unwrapped the bundles of maple and oak leaves, I thought about our first "fall foliage" trip to the Northeast, the one we had planned for this October. This year I'll just have to make it a virtual trip, just like when we "visited" England and Yellowstone last summer.  But one day, my love,  I'll go and be sure,  you'll be with me... right here in my heart!

 Didn't we love the fall?  Football games, driving past pumpkin patches, dressing the family for Fall Festival at Westbury, Octoberfest with "Wicked Wanda," the tuba player and our ill-fated camping trip and of course, the best, hanging out with our kids during Baylor homecoming... always the best time of the year. 
Rob, the Big Oak is shedding, a few leaves at a time...kind of like my tears.  A few spill a couple of times a day, but they don't pour like in days past. I pause with each falling leaf, and can't help but think back on our silent September, when we sat and stared, counting off the days. We knew we most likely would say our goodbyes before the season changed once again. I fight this simmering anxiety, knowing the worst of last fall approaches and it crowds my thoughts. I was too busy caring for you then, to grasp how hard you suffered, but I'm learning that the things we stuff have their way of creeping to the surface sooner or later. You were brave, Rob! Even as you withered, I saw indescribable strength on which I continue to draw. This season will pass as well and soon I'll be boxing up the harvest...but never the memories, my sweet Rob. 

Saturday, September 20, 2014

Dearest Rob,
I went to see our Grace play volleyball tonight. She's moved positions and is now the team's libero. She's using a lot of skills honed from her previous position as she adjusts to her new responibility.  You would have been so proud of her, diving for balls, thinking (literally) on her feet, and finishing strong.
I cheered loudly from both of us, Rob, just as you would want.
Leaving the gym in a cheerful mood, I asked myself, "Should I?" The night seemed too beautiful to sit in a lonely house on a Friday night...again.
"Why not?" and within minutes after hopping in the car, I was rolling down the road with the convertible top wide open to the night sky! Music turned up, breeze in my face, I drove until I escaped the city lights. Oh Rob, remember our fun dates in our string of convertibles?  Driving through bluebonnet lined country roads...exploring Texas in those two-seaters? Now I'm sorry for the few times I insisted that you keep "the lid on all the fun," making some flimsy excuse about the wind messing up my hair.
 Were you able to look down and see me parked in the country silence, staring up at the heavens?  Nothing but a few wispy clouds to hide the brilliance of the stars... I wonder; do you still look up and see stars or is Heaven closer than I think?
Rob, could you see me reach over and place my hand on the seat you occupied for five short months?  Funny how I caught myself repeating my familiar pat and whispering, "It's going to be okay."   And for the first time in months, I really thought it might be okay, at least for a while. I experienced some electricity traveling through these weary bones tonight and it felt good. Maybe like our Grace, I'm going to be able to infuse some of the old strengths into this new, shaky role...and finish strong. 
On the way home I grinned at how silly I must have looked, flying down that freeway, singing at the top of my lungs  and as I pulled into the driveway after my wild ride, lyrics, written for the Creator of song, caught my attention.  I wonder if He would mind if I assign them to you, Rob, just this once. 
Out on the farthest edge
There in the silence
You were there
My faith was torn to shreds 
Heart in the balance
And you were there
Always faithful, always good
You still have me
You still have my heart

And you do...

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

I usually add some polish to my posts...not tonight.  May I bleed a bit? It's been a hard, hard few days.
I've lost two mothers and two fathers, two by blood, two by marriage. I'm an orphan, the oldest one in my family. I know painful, parental goodbyes; they deeply hurt...still. I know gut wrenching loss of preborns and empty mommy arms.  I understand the grief of shattered dreams; recently I packed away my own dream of filling the corners of my home with the chatter of grandchildren on any given day. There won't be the laughter of family, crowded around a happy table each week. 
 Loss is awful in any package, but separation from a spouse can't truly be understood by another unless they've journeyed down that same path. With my other losses, I could bury my brokenness in my husband's chest, drawing strength from him.  He always softened the pain; he was a constant home to whom I could always run. 
I've lost more than my mate; I've lost the brain that complimented mine, the gifts and talents that made us function as a unit, the arms that held me when tears flew and fears reigned. I've lost identity, a future filled with life-long dreams and even, things I'm still discovering.
There are days when the will to take another step, another breath is non-existent! Packing up and going home seems better, but then, that would require that other step, that other breath.   Then, there are really good days that almost look normal when I smile and laugh. There are the days when I go through the motions, wearing a fairly polished facade that fools you (and sometimes, even me)  and then there is the string of bad ones when I'm restless, wading through fog, unable to follow through on any task or decision.  I fight fear constantly: practical fears, irrational ones, fear that I'm not trusting God in any way. I manage most loneliness, but "aloneness" scares me to death! Immobility is a new foe. 
But the greatest, most surprising squeeze is this pressure to be the old me. She's gone, folks! Half or possibly more of me died last December...amputated without the swift closing of a skilled surgeon.  Don't mistake what I'm saying; I know the Physician who will carefully return blood supply to my broken heart and shape spiritual muscle so I can stand and even walk again with his help. I think that's called Hope, but it doesn't come swiftly!  I'm an open wound, searching for the rest of me.  And I can't find her yet. I'm crumbling under pressure to rush this grief.  I want to be the mother who takes care of her brood...I want to don my nurse's cap and heal the wounded, but all I am for now is a half-empty, flawed mess. 
Save some grace for me when I fail you or seem disengaged.  Understand that one wrong turn or decision completely undoes me.  I need your tenderness, patience and yes, even mercy and forgiveness. 
I recognize your great loss, too. Never, ever think that I don't!  I want to soothe it...really! I first, have to find some energy. 
I liked the happy ME prior to Rob's death; I liked her a lot. I hope you and I will come to like the new Me when I finally find her.

Monday, September 15, 2014

Cemetery Song

My soul cries out
My soul cries out for you
These bones cry out
These dry bones cry for you
To live and move
Only You 
Can raise the dead
Lift my head

Jesus, You're the one who saves us
Constantly creates us into something new
Jesus, surely you will find us
Surely our Messiah will make all things new

Amid this valley of deep grief, these bones cry out.  Can these bones live again?  Oh Sovereign LORD, only You know! I AM, lifter of my head, breathe life back into me again.
Don't let me decay; I must learn to live without Rob! 
This lonely Sunday afternoon, I sit on land reserved for dry bones, feeling a gentle breeze waft over me, staring at inscribed names and plastic flowers, wondering, Will I ever dance again, sing again, love again? Only You know...
Nine months erased from the calendar of my heart; isn't it time for me to rise again? Maybe just some fleeting wish or am I turning the corner?  Though, life looms hard, even soul cries me to see Your goodness in the land of the living...

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Reflections on the anniversary of 9/11

Rob was in the air, towers were falling, I sat frozen with fear. Because he was working on a classified government project, I did not know where he was. He could have easily been traveling from the East Coast, so I waited and waited on this September day thirteen years ago. He landed in Portland, Oregon and we would not see him for days. Thankfully, his brother lived there so he was not alone during a time when our nation lay in turmoil. But, I remember how determined Rob was to get home to us; flights were canceled, rental cars nonexistent and he knew his family desperately needed him close by to feel whole and safe.  
Fast forward to this season of unrest and I'm reminded that when life brings great storms in my future (and it will,) I will never again lean on my husband, steadying my fears with his strength and presence. Memories don't grab arms and uphold scared women. 
But the great I AM does!
I love the beautiful picture in Isaiah 41. In verse 10, I see a righteous God, who always does the right thing all of the time, girds me with His powerful right hand, while simultaneously(vs.13) placing my trembling right hand in his fatherly left grasp.  
He upholds and doesn't let go!   And that's enough for me.
Don’t be afraid, for I am with you.  Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you.  I will hold you up with my victorious right hand...For I hold you by your right hand, I, the LORD your God. And I say to you, Don't be afraid. I am here to help you. NLT


Wednesday, September 10, 2014

"Mrs. Moore, would you step in here, please?" And I knew...No one steps into a private conference room while awaiting news from your surgeon unless it's very, very bad.  I knew we were about to face something much bigger, much uglier than we could ever handle on our own.
"Your husband's abdomen is filled with cancer and my suspicion is a tumor originating from his pancreas.  I would take him home and plan a trip to Hawaii while you have the chance." And then he left, probably preparing himself to break the news to his groggy patient.
A simple hernia repair turned into a death sentence?
And the room began to spin out of control.
I wept. And then God, it was more like He cheered.  Isaiah 41:10!  "So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."    Promise after promise rose from the deep: "I will be with you, you will not drown, the flames will not consume you, I am about to do something new."
On the worst day of my life, God took over and unleashed years of hidden Scripture resting in my heart. 
He instructed: choose joy, a direct command from the Apostle Paul and I did.
God-breathed comfort carried me that day and for months to come. I could never have trusted those promises had I not been diligent in hearing them throughout the years.  Oh, how I cherish the Word that penetrates deep within and remains my alive and active rescuer on those very worst days.
Always hearing, always hiding...
The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever. Isaiah 40:8

Sunday, September 7, 2014

So will it be a boy or a girl this time?
Waiting to hear if we open #1
or #2!!!
Bobby doing the honors...
It's a Webdell Boy!
Gigi is ecstatic!
Debut: early 2015

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Dear Bobby,  33 years became the third RSM, but more importantly, the next in a legacy of smart, strong, and godly Moore men.
Your dad was captivated by his little girl, but I wish you could have seen his face when he met his boy for the first time. He kept saying, "It's a boy, it's a boy..." His eyes, welled up with tears, said it all.
He was so proud of you!  Every accomplishment made him beam, but you could have never thrown a curve ball, made an "A" on an exam, or earned another degree and he would have cherished you just as much.  He loved your soul, your little boy smile, the way you cared for your friends. 
He treasured the Sunday afternoon you announced to us that you were going to ask Jesus into your heart and no one was going to stop you.  
I will never forget this past year and how you stuck by your dad's side, holding his hand, telling him how much you loved him through many difficult tears. 
I will always be grateful that you took him to his last concert and that you carried that ridiculous mattress through the hospital parking lot to make his last night on earth a comfortable one. He felt so loved by you, Bobby. Hold on to that and smile!
Today, I celebrate you and thank God for your life.
Happy Birthday, Son.   I love you more than life itself, Mom  

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

So what do you do when you start the day with a hateful comment directed at you for many to see? One of those "See, I told you so" messages that leaves you hurt and sad...
Well, if you are me, you cry and whisper, "This just isn't fair." 
But then you cling to the mighty Word of God.
And as you drink Truth, you offer grace.
I'm trusting Proverbs 16 today.

           1           We can make our own plans,
                           but the Lord gives the right answer.



People may be pure in their own eyes,
    but the Lord examines their motives.
Commit your actions to the Lord,
    and your plans will succeed.
The Lord has made everything for his own purposes,
    even the wicked for a day of disaster.
The Lord detests the proud;
    they will surely be punished.
Unfailing love and faithfulness make atonement for sin.
    By fearing the Lord, people avoid evil.
When people’s lives please the Lord,
    even their enemies are at peace with them.
Better to have little, with godliness,
    than to be rich and dishonest.
We can make our plans,
    but the Lord determines our steps.
10 The king speaks with divine wisdom;
    he must never judge unfairly.
11 The Lord demands accurate scales and balances;
    he sets the standards for fairness.
12 A king detests wrongdoing,
    for his rule is built on justice.
13 The king is pleased with words from righteous lips;
    he loves those who speak honestly.
14 The anger of the king is a deadly threat;
    the wise will try to appease it.
15 When the king smiles, there is life;
    his favor refreshes like a spring rain.
16 How much better to get wisdom than gold,
    and good judgment than silver!
17 The path of the virtuous leads away from evil;
    whoever follows that path is safe.
18 Pride goes before destruction,
    and haughtiness before a fall.
19 Better to live humbly with the poor
    than to share plunder with the proud.
20 Those who listen to instruction will prosper;
    those who trust the Lord will be joyful.
21 The wise are known for their understanding,
    and pleasant words are persuasive.
22 Discretion is a life-giving fountain to those who possess it,
    but discipline is wasted on fools.
23 From a wise mind comes wise speech;
    the words of the wise are persuasive.
24 Kind words are like honey—
    sweet to the soul and healthy for the body.
25 There is a path before each person that seems right,
    but it ends in death.
26 It is good for workers to have an appetite;
    an empty stomach drives them on.
27 Scoundrels create trouble;
    their words are a destructive blaze.
28 A troublemaker plants seeds of strife;
    gossip separates the best of friends.
29 Violent people mislead their companions,
    leading them down a harmful path.
30 With narrowed eyes, people plot evil;
    with a smirk, they plan their mischief.
31 Gray hair is a crown of glory;
    it is gained by living a godly life.
32 Better to be patient than powerful;
    better to have self-control than to conquer a city.
33 We may throw the dice,[a]
    but the Lord determines how they fall.

Monday, September 1, 2014

I am the other. 
I sit on the sidelines, waiting to be welcomed into their hearts, watching the party unfold.
A near decade has passed and the rift never seems to narrow. 
How long, oh God, can another hold me captive? 
How long until I get to leave imprints on tiny hearts?