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I have to be honest.
I put on a brave face where everyone else is concerned. Maybe it was the way I was raised, “If you
have nothing good to say, don’t say anything at all.” Maybe it is because the things I have had to
deal with over the years are, in the grand scheme of things, not as big as
other people’s issues. That is not to
say that it diminishes my life or feelings, but I look at others with much
larger problems and wonder what it is that I have to complain about. It’s a choice, often a conscious choice, for
me to decide that “I’ve got this under control”. The majority of the time, this is a true
statement.
But there are times in the dark, stillness of the early
morning hours or when I have the opportunity to get some time to myself (which,
trust me, is not very often), that all the fears and doubts creep in and I am a
puddle of tears. I don’t like others to
see that part of me. I have become good
at hiding it – avoiding it. Most of the
time anyway. I am a hypocrite when
George cries and I tell him it is okay to do so. It makes him more human. So why do I hide this part of myself like I
do is anyone’s guess. Perhaps it is
because I do not like to admit that I am not always strong. Perhaps it is because I don’t want anyone to
feel sorry for me. It could be one of
those or it could be something I am not even aware of.
I have written how much I have turned to my Christian music
for comfort and peace. There are certain
songs that make me weep. It will happen
at church sometimes. I dab at the tears,
embarrassed that not only can I not hold them in but I can’t explain why they
occur. I think it is because the songs
make me so humble in the eyes of the Lord, it is through Him that I exist. I weep because He loves me in all of my
sinful, not so pretty ways (and yes, I am telling you that I have faults!) In those moments I feel so vulnerable – no
one likes feeling vulnerable and I fight against that all the time – yet I feel
God touching my very soul with his music, with the gift of song and I can be
both down on my knees in prayer or lifting my hands in praise.
Some of the losses in my life have been significant - - a
college roommate and grandparents some 30 years ago, my husband Mike, my dad,
my mom to name a few. And I have lived
through those times of hurt and pain with as more grace than I ever thought was
possible. Though there were some very dark periods of time for me after those,
for the most part I was able to look to God and see a reason or a purpose for
them being taken from my life. I have
been able to find peace and positive energy in spite of the seemingly
unsurmountable losses. I have an innate
sense of God’s love and know that God will see me through no matter what life
sends my way.
I am extremely humbled by all the people around the world
who take the time to say a prayer for us, to offer us their love and
support. Many we do not know. To say I am grateful would be a huge
understatement. Who am I that all these
people should care? God’s grace and
mercy overflows from them to me and renders me speechless and I fight back
tears of humility and thankfulness.
It is in the songs of Christ that I surrender myself to
Him. It is as though He is reaching into
my heart to let me know that I am loved, that WE are loved. I know
that I have absolutely no control over where life is taking me. It scares me sometimes because there is no
crystal ball. And trust me, there are
times I want that crystal ball so badly.
I want to know that George will be whole once he is healed
from this surgery. I don’t have that
promise or that guarantee. I am so
afraid of this surgery because he is so much weaker than before the first
surgery. His spirit seems so broken
these days when he talks about being tired of being tired… of not know what his
purpose is here on earth… of his frustrations that he made a promise if he
lived through the first surgery and he has not been able to fulfill that
promise yet. He has lost all sense of self.
Feels he falls so short as a husband and provider. And as hard as I try to lay that all before
our Lord I find that my humanness keeps bubbling up and the fears sneak back
in.
I remember after Mike died that when I looked back at those
last weeks of life that things happened that should have been a sign, but of
course we didn’t know it. We saw people
that we hadn’t visited in awhile. We
became foster parents as a pay back of sorts – because Mike wanted to give
someone else a chance just as he had been given. We were doubly blessed because Rachel had a
little baby, so Mike got to experience being a grandfather for all of 6
weeks. We were in a good place
spiritually, he was enjoying being part of a church family and was taking a
Bible study. It was all so good, the
best it had been in our 20 years of marriage.
And, then… POOF, it was gone.
And now I find myself looking for signs of that happening
again. Will I know it before it
happens? I find myself asking questions
I never thought I would have to ask.
“George, what is your “limit”?
What kinds of conditions are you willing to live in?” I have to know that because if not now, then
at some point this cancer or some other health condition could lead to my
having to help make a decision. I hate
having to think of those things. But
even though there are true moments of doubt and despair, inevitably I know that
there is “not a spot where God is not” and no matter what happens, no matter
what cards are dealt, not only will a survive but I will thrive.
I feel for George - - these past two years have not been
fun for him, nor for me. These recent
weeks have been horrid. How many times
is too many times to go to the restroom (even though many are false alarms, he
doesn’t trust his body signals). Back
and forth and back and forth seems to be the bane of his existence. What kind of life is it to live in fear of
being too far from a bathroom? Up until
December he had gotten things to a relatively good place and things were pretty
manageable. Will they ever be that way
again? Will he find some peace or
happiness when all is said and done? Or
will things be worse? No crystal ball to
give us those answers. We have to wait
and see what is in store for us.
This is my final posting just before surgery day. George will not see this for many weeks. I pray that when he does read this that he is
in a better place than he is today. I
pray he is recovering well from surgery.
I pray that he experience being NED (no evidence of disease) for a
period of time. I continue to lift him
up to the Lord – because I am not in control of his earthly life. And I vow to continue to be strong for him,
to stand beside him, to tend to whatever his needs are in the short and long
term. “In sickness and in health, for
good or for bad.” Before George heads in
to surgery I will hold his hand and reassure him that I love him and I will
wait for him and I will be there for him.
I will reassure him that all will be well and not let him see any doubt
or fear. I will believe that for him
because in this moment he finds it difficult to believe. And when I am weak, I
know that I have so many faithful prayer warriors lifting me up and lifting him
up, they will help carry us through whatever lies ahead. That is what LOVE is
all about.
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