My Mother is a saint.
She has taken my boys and watched them, played with them and entertained them for so many hours this week, just so I could get a few things done.
She deserves a parade.
I just give her hugs... doesn't seem like enough.
The past few weeks have been stressful. Some of it is just the normal life of a mother of young children, some of it is paperwork...endless paperwork and details, some of it is me, just realizing... comprehending...truly seeing that I am doing more and more by myself. Which in turn means the Captain is doing less and less.
Not because he doesn't want to... but because he can't.
I'm not sure what to contribute it to. Medication... swelling, necrosis, cancer, lack of motivation, a big hole in his brain that shouldn't be there... a combination of all of the above.
He is very tired most of the time.
Sleeps many hours a day.
Doesn't really partake in conversations anymore.
And just over all doesn't feel well.
We have a doc appointment today. We get to see and chat with his oncologist and he will have a second infusion of a drug that is supposed to make him feel better.
It did not really help last time.
I find that each day I am just a inch away from tears. They might be tears of stress, the feeling of being overwhelmed, sadness, or anger and frustration... depending upon the minute of the day.
I think the weight of the past few months, and the reality of our situation has just hit me. Part of me thinks I was holding reality at arms length so I would not have to deal... another part of me knows there has been a physical and cognitive decline in my husband the past couple of months.
And it scares me.
It makes me sad.
I still do not know what God is doing, I do not know if this is a hard patch and with time, medication and rest the Captain will bounce back.( After his first brain surgery we had a period of two months where he had major trouble talking and forming sentences because his brain was forming new pathways for information... and he bounced back.)
Or if God is preparing us... stretching us, growing us for more hard that is to come.
I just don't know.
And it is so frustrating.
I keep thinking if I just knew what to prepare for, I could make it through this weird limbo/transition time with more energy...boldness...hope.
It's this in-between-ness that is so hard. The slow road, where each day you feel like your pack is a bit heavier than the day before... not sure if your destination leads to relief or sorrow.
I feel weary.
Two words that save the day... God uses others to comfort me. To care for me, To lift me up. He uses His word to sustain me, to bring peace and hope.
He reminds me of all that He has done... His faithfulness to me in my life... He whispers through His word...
remember who I am , remember what I have done, remember all I have promised.
Remember I love you, I am there before you are...I have a purpose for all of this.
Nothing is wasted, friends.
So even though each day feels heavy, my God continues to amaze me with rest He gives, the love He shows and the joy He restores.
And each day I am made aware of how little I deserve the Grace He gives.
Yet, He refuses to stop giving.
So today, I will strive to keep my focus on the One who brings the good... the one who promises peace and rest... the One who is faithful to the ends of eternity and brings me Joy.
Life can be hard, but we are never meant to walk it alone, carrying all the weight ourselves.
So for the 12th time already today I will "hand it over" and try to get lost in His goodness.
Today I will strive to remember.