It's Been A Year

Warning: this post contains raw emotions and real talk about death and grieving. It's not for the faint of heart.

It's been a year since I've seen her face, held her hand, felt her tangible presence. It's been a year, and yet sometimes it seems like it just happened and sometimes it seems like it's been a decade.

She's missed so much this year:
Us moving to Charlotte, finding out we're having another baby, finding out it's ANOTHER girl(!!!), the craziness of trying to start a church, birthdays, Christmas, vacations.

Those events have been hard...the feeling of knowing she's not with us is especially heavy when we gather around a celebratory table to enjoy a meal together or cross another milestone in our young family's life. But what is even harder are the random mornings when I just feel like picking up the phone to chat, and tell her about the mundane things in life. That happens almost every day. For a while, I was so used to picking up the phone for our daily talk that I wouldn't even realize what I was doing until I heard her voice mail, "You've reached Cris Malseed. Please leave a message." So professional...I think she set that before she got sick. My heart hurts when I walk into their home and though things look pretty much the same, it's just...different.



I ache during the times when our girls are acting especially cute or talented or when we notice that Allie's vocabulary exploding again (she and Allie always had a special bond), and I think, "Gosh, Mom would LOVE to be here right now soaking this in." I hate that she's missing out on hopscotch and Ella's soccer games and seeing how sassy but fun Allie is--true Cris fashion! It stinks not having my Mom to talk to after I've been up all night with sick children to encourage me and remind me that this will be in the past soon. She was great at holding back unsolicited, outdated parenting advice. I miss the joy on her face that I saw when we brought the kids to see her and she soaked in how her baby was now somehow a mommy herself. Parenting small children without Mom is just harder.

But as much as I hurt still, I'm overwhelmed by a sense of thankfulness.

I'm thankful for the five years we had together between her diagnosis and the end of her battle with Pulmonary Hypertension. Along with her physical changes, she changed spiritually and emotionally. Brandon and I were talking this morning about how special that time was. It felt like we squeezed 30 years of heart-to-heart real relationship into 5. We became more than mother and daughter, we became friends, confidants, prayer partners even. Our time together wasn't taken for granted anymore. We knew there was a chance that it would be short-lived, so we took advantage of the opportunities to spend time together and make them count. Not everyone has a reason to stop and recognize how precious life is. So many take it for granted, but we didn't take those 5 years for granted.

I am so thankful for that.

I am so thankful to have been able to see my dad step up in ways I would have never imagined. His faithful sacrifice was so endearing, so inspiring. As her primary caretaker, he learned more about Pulmonary Hypertension, administering Flolan, and patient care than most nurses. He gave and gave and gave, even when it wasn't easy. Mom was still Mom...although she was sweeter MOST of the time, the bulldog Cris who used to be so important at huge law firms was still itching to have control over something. She couldn't control what was happening to her body, so she many times overcompensated by trying to control things like how the books were arranged on the shelves, how her sandwich was made, how the bills were paid. Dad graciously accepted more than most people would, and at least tried to accommodate her wishes. That was hard. I know because during my visits, he would get a break and I would take on that role, and if the Spirit of the Living God wasn't in me at times, I would have probably caved. But that is just how she was, and who can blame her for wanting to keep her grip on something, anything...as the rest of her life was slipping through her fingers. So I am so thankful to have seen my dad stay true to his wedding vows, to never give up, to sacrifice so much until the very last moment.

I am also thankful that in this year, he has had a lot of healing take place. I can't imagine the grief he feels over losing Mom, but the fact that he can get on his always-dreamed-of Harley Davidson and go for a ride to think, cry, clear his head...worth every over-priced penny in my opinion. Their friends have stepped up in wonderful ways to support him and love him and keep him included as much as he feels up to it.

I am so thankful for that.

I am so thankful that things happened the way they did on the night she passed. I had received a call from her hospice nurse letting me know that she had been taken to the hospice house that afternoon and she was in a lot of pain, and had been put on strong doses of morphine. I knew that the hospice house was only used for two things: to give the caretakers a little rest or to have constant high-quality care during the last days of one's life. I spoke to Dad that day who told me that he would keep in contact with me if things seemed to be spiraling downward anymore. Otherwise, he didn't want us to have to make the big effort to pack up two kids and drive down just to wait indefinitely. She was such a fighter that no one knew how things would turn out. That night after dinner, Brandon and I had been talking about what to do and the girls were up later than usual. Brandon said, "you know what, let's just go. At least you can sit with her, give your dad a break, and be there if anything happens." So we packed, got in the car, and drove down there, arriving at 11pm. I relieved Dad at Mom's bedside so he could get some rest. He hadn't slept in 2 days.

My time at her bedside was short. I sat in a chair and read my Bible and prayed and journaled and listened to Kari Jobe. I praised God for opening Mom's eyes to see who He really was, for drawing her to himself, and for securing her eternity by his sacrifice. I praised Him that this wasn't the last time I would see my mom, but that I could rest in knowing where she was going. It was truly a time of worship...hands raised, tears flowing as I felt His presence so strongly in that room. The nurses had told me she was in crazy pain, and as the morphine wore off, she would come to because of the excruciating pressure on her lungs and pain in her body. They said it could take weeks for her to pass. So as I was praying and journaling, I felt led to ask the Lord to have mercy on her and us...

And right as I wrote that the most amazing thing happened. Mom opened her eyes and turned her head to look at me. Though she had not been coherent all day, I could tell that she knew I was there. She tried to sit up. She started to take off her oxygen mask. I stood up and leaned over her, stroking her hair and whispering, "It's okay, Mom...it's okay. You can go be with Jesus. Just go be with Jesus, Mom. I love you, Mom." The fear in her eyes dissipated and she relaxed, closed her eyes, and I could tell the end was near. I called Brandon to tell him to wake Daddy up. Thankfully the hospice house was just minutes away from their house. He made it just in time to say goodbye. It was a precious, priceless moment.

The sense of relief and peace that washed over us was strange. The battle was over. She had won. Sort of. She finished well. She was at that very moment probably being told by Jesus, "well done, my good and faithful servant. You have finished your race, you have won the prize...the prize is Me." We had finished that battle well, too, loving and serving her to the best of our ability. The first thing we did was ask that she be unhooked from all the tubes and wires she was chained to for so long. She was finally free from all of that.

I am so thankful it happened that way.

Yes, as difficult as this year has been, I have much to be thankful for. I'm thankful for the growth that's come in the grieving process...the closeness of God that I feel when I'm brokenhearted. I'm thankful for the wonderful memories that remain etched in the fabric of my mind as I think of her. I'm thankful each time my girls bring up Grammy, and I'm thankful that they can watch firsthand how someone who is anchored to the Rock of Christ grieves with hope. I'm thankful that life moves on, albeit differently. I'm thankful for the wonderful support from our family and friends who have rallied around us during this difficult year. And I'm thankful for a God who brings beauty out of ashes.

Roller Coaster Mother's Day

The roller coaster ride has begun this May. At one point, I knew that I would probably take this ride, but somehow I must have forgot...until I found myself buckled in, holding the bar in front of me and holding my breath. Ready for the ups and downs of impending Mother's Day.

The ups are obvious. I have been ridiculously blessed to be Ella and Allie's mommy. I have found that this year, especially, has brought me incredible joy as Allie has become more independent and communicative. Life is just a little easier when your baby can tell you what she needs or wants. And now that she has that ability, she's definitely not shy. At all. Her favorite requests are "Mommy, I wanna go Chick-A-Lay", and "My daddy, my daddy, my daddy!!!!" The burden of constant need for a protective eye on her has been lessened by her sweet, sweet spirit and tender touch, the depth of those dark brown eyes calling me in to get lost in love with my daughter.

Ella's preciousness is immeasurable. Her predictability, priceless. I love my creature of habit. I love her need for snuggles, hugs, and kisses from her family. I love her elephant-rivaling memory...how she'll recall something I have totally forgotten, a rare and precious memory that brings a smile to my face.

Yes, being a Mommy on Mother's Day is a nice thing. It's great to get hugs and kisses and homemade cards and gifts from my little artists, and thank you's that are really not even needed because I would gladly do this job a thousands times over without any repayment.

So the roller coaster ride is cresting the top, and life is good. God's there. Cheering me on. Reassuring me that my efforts are not in vain, that He's proud of me, that my girls are in His hands.

And as I find myself at the climax of life, giving God praise and honor for the view up here, the cars suddenly obey gravity and come shooting down the track.

In all my 32 years past, I've always enjoyed honoring my own mom with love, hugs, kisses, and gifts. Homemade crafts that are still stashed away in special memory boxes she kept. Cards and letters that I had thoughtfully written over the years to express my thankfulness, my love, my respect for who she was and what she did for me.


And this year, she's not here to smile that big smile as I present her with those things. It's been 8 months since I've seen that smile, or heard her voice or felt her motherly loving touch. I've missed the advice that only a maternal grandmother can give a new mommy who doesn't know what to do with a two year old and a three year old. Who needs a safe place to share her insecurities about being a pastor's wife and journeying on new adventures like I am during this season of my life.

The roller coaster car is plummeting down, down, down, and yet...God is there. Comforting me, collecting my tears, and cheering me on. Reassuring me that my efforts as a daughter were not in vain. Telling me He's proud of me at how I've pressed into Him during this time of grieving and that my mommy is in His hands.

The thing about a roller coaster is that usually there's one big up and one big down, then lots of twists and turns...things that don't make your stomach drop quite as much and leave you with an overall pleasant experience (if you like roller coasters, that is).

The rest of the small ups and downs include:

Rejoicing with my sister-in-law as she celebrates her first Mother's Day with an actual baby in her arms. After years of battling infertility and many Mother's Days spent sitting in church with hot tears probably rolling down her cheeks as the pastor asked mothers to stand and be honored, wondering if she would ever get a chance to have that wonderful experience, my nephew, Channing, is an Ephesians 3:20 kind of blessing (more that she could ask or think of!) He's charming and adorable and chunky-licious and has a twinkle in his bright blue eyes that tells of the brilliance going on in his brain. God's got such great plans for that little boy, and I know that He's using Pepper mightily to form Channing's worldview in a radically different way than she was taught growing up.

A little climb...

Missing my grandmother who lives far away and wishing that life were not so crazy right now so I could spend time by her side enjoying her company and watching her as she basks in the glory of her great grands...

A slight descent...

Thoughts of miscarried babies who are now in the arms of Jesus, their Grammy by their side...

Twists and turns...

Excitement at the thought of the future baby Berrys God will one day add to our family, in His perfect timing...

With each hill and valley, twist and turn, God reaches out, steadying me and reminding me that I'm securely fastened in His love. He is here this Mother's Day, riding this roller coaster right next to me. And eventually, Mother's Day will have come and gone. I will have exited this roller coaster for this season, and more than likely, will have a fond overview of my experience.

Won't Lie

I won't lie.


It's been a killer hard month. Busy. Too busy. Full of really high highs and really low lows. I wish I could be better at keeping up with this blog during busy times, but this is one thing that gets pushed by the wayside.

Here's a run down of what's been going on:

Brandon and I were asked to be the campus pastors of Redemption Charlotte. We got to choose the city, and Charlotte has been on our hearts for a long time now. We are excited about the opportunity, but of course still trying to wrap our brains around what will go into starting a new video campus in another state.

A week later Mom's battle finally came to an end. She won. Not in the sense of "I beat Pulmonary Hypertension", or "I got a lung transplant finally", but "I passed this test, I finished the race, I gained the prize...and the Prize is Jesus." She went to be with Him on September 21. We were incredibly saddened, but also relieved that she is suffering no more. We are grieving as best we can. It's terribly hard, and lonely at times. But we remember that she is with the Lord and that gives us hope to see her again. Hopefully a long time from now, right?

Our friends, Brad and Cory-Marie got married the day after Mom's memorial service. It was a beautiful wedding and we celebrated as much as we could considering the circumstances.

A week later, we went on a cruise that we had been planning for months to celebrate our 5 year anniversary. It was a good time to rest and reflect...and eat. We did a lot of all that. We reconnected as a couple and it was a wonderful time to have a little respite. We spent a couple of days in Charleston after the cruise with some friends and enjoyed celebrating another wedding...Amy and Yves Gege. It was a gorgeous day and perfect for a wedding.

Four days after we got home, our nephew, Channing, was born in Fayettville, NC. We drove there to be with John and Pepper and welcome little Chancakes to the world. We haven't been able to see him since, but look forward to getting some good baby snuggles at Thanksgiving.

On the way home from Fayetteville, we stopped in Charlotte and stayed with a buddy who gave us a generous tour of the city, mainly Uptown areas. We got charged up and excited about that.

After we got home we decided to try to move forward with our move and put our house up on the market. And before we could do that, we had to do some big time renovations. New hand scraped floors in the foyer, great room, dining room and hallways/closets. New ceramic tile in the kitchen and bathrooms. Touch up paint, little projects here and there that have needed to get done...it is now "go" time. We've been staging our house, packing our belongings up, and furiously cleaning to keep it sparkling clean. We are praying for a quick sale so we don't have to keep this up for long, because it is just plain exhausting.

We have been taking a lot of trips to Charlotte and are excited about what will happen there. We've been reading a lot of books about multisite churches and speaking to people who live them out. We're digesting a ton of material in a very short period of time. Thankfully, I have been a part of a church that did multisite pretty darn well, so I have a little experience in it. A little.

My aunt Leslie beat cancer last week. In the same way that Mom beat PH. They are now enjoying Jesus together, I'm sure. We went to Greensboro to be with our family to celebrate her life last weekend.

So that's it. Not much. Wait...I'm lying. I told you I wouldn't do that.

Can You Praise and Pray?

I feel like I've been bombarded with prayer requests lately...so many people are getting sick, dealing with diseases, fighting for life. "It's not the way it's supposed to be", I think to myself.

I was at a women's conference at my church this weekend and one of the speakers, Cynthia Brazelton brought light to this subject in my life. She was talking about how we are the apple of God's eye (Deut 32:10). It says that He found him (us, the people I'm praying for, etc) in the wilderness, in a wasteland (in a dry place where they don't have the healing they need). It says that He threw His arms around us, lavished His attention on us and guarded us as the apple of His eye. Well, praise the Lord!!! When we are struggling, he is wrapping his arms around us, giving us all the attention and love we need and guarding us as very precious to His heart.

Psalm 22:3 says that God inhabits the praises of his people. We are to praise Him, and He simply can't help but be present when we do so. He longs to visit us when we are praising Him--what parent doesn't love to hear his or her kids say how much they love Mama or Daddy? I know when I'm putting Ella down for the night, I long to hear those words, "Wuv you, mommy" pass through her pacifier, especially when they're unsolicited.

So, I want to praise God for who He is, in light of a few people who are close to me and need to be wrapped up in His arms right now. In fact, they need Him to move in a mighty way, and I'm believing for them that He will. In Acts 16, we find Paul and Silas...they had been preaching the gospel through a town and casting out demons and healing people. Some people got mad at them and had them thrown into jail. They weren't just put in a holding cell. They were put in the deepest dungeon in the jail. No doubt there were rats and all sorts of nasty things down there, and it was dark and wet and....ewwwww! Then they were shackled and so their hands were bound and they couldn't do anything about those rats and creepy crawlies all over them. (Double ewwwww!) What did they do? They were praying and singing to God. And not just some woe is me kind of, "I praise you, God. (sniff, sniff)"...No, they praised and prayed so loudly that the other prisoners who were not underground heard them through the thick stone walls and dirt that separated them. This was a serious praise. And then do you know what happened? An earthquake came (I don't think it was a coincidence), the foundations of the jail shifted, and all the doors opened and everyone's chains were loosed.

What Paul and Silas did was praise. What God did was free everyone who even heard them praising. Everyone who was bound. Paul & Silas were in jail for no good reason, so maybe some of the other prisoners really were innocent, too. And they all were able to be free.

My three big prayer requests have been for:

1) My mom, who is battling the last stages of pulmonary hypertension, and has been for 4 years now. We are at the point where we have to have a miracle or lung transplant. She is #1 on the transplant list, but her antibodies are so that there is a very small percentage of people who would match her. I am praying for God's healing touch to touch her, heal her. OR...if He'd get more glory through a transplant process, then I am praying for the match, or a change in her antibodies...anything.

2) My friend and college roommate, Ashley. She and her husband are missionaries in Botswana, and she has always been someone who I've looked up to spiritually. This girl is a ball of fire for God. She recently gave birth to their second child, a boy named Caleb. Unfortunately, during the birthing process, his oxygen was diminished, and now there is significant damage to his brain which, barring a miracle, could mean a lifetime of round-the-clock care and almost no quality of life. Ashley and Percy have each felt God telling them to believe and ask for healing in this situation, though they were prepared to simply deal with the diagnosis and still give Him glory.

3) My "aunt" (she's related somehow through my marriage on my dad's side) Leslie who is in the last stages of cancer. She is fighting and battling, but has been dealing with it a long time, and I'm sure she's tired. I can't imagine how hard it must be to go through all that she's gone through, and as a mama, I can't imagine the torment that she deals with when thinking of her two sons and husband. I am praying for a miracle in this situation, too.

Overall, may God's will be done...He is worthy of praise even if things don't turn out as I have hoped and prayed. He's amazing and his ways are higher than my ways. I'm going to praise Him because of these situations. I am going to continually give Him the love and admiration He deserves, and He will inhabit these praises and the anointing that comes from it can be transferred into their lives, just as it happened with Paul and Silas.

Will you please take a minute and praise God with me? Thank Him for answering these prayers. Thank Him for wrapping these three people in His arms and lavishing His love of them and guarding them as the apple of His eye?