|This is what I want to do sometimes!|
This week has been tough. Driving down my street, on the way to a transplant appointment with my husband, I saw a "sold" sign on a home around the corner from my own. And I almost lost it. That was my dream for this year to sell our house. And I wonder why our dreams have been deferred. Why isn't our home on the market? Why aren't we spending our Saturdays looking at prospective homes? Why aren't we grumbling about having to paint the walls and clean the carpets? Why aren't we enjoying the last semester of school for my husband? Why aren't we planning a trip that we can take as a family this summer? Why have our dreams been deferred? Why does my husband have cancer? Why my family? Why do we have to deal with this while others get to enjoy life?
There are days when I don't want to go to God in prayer, because I am so hurt. There are days I want to just pretend that this is not something we are dealing with. There are days I want to ignore the still voice of God, because I don't want comfort because that means I am in pain. And I am in pain because my husband has cancer. I don't want strength because it means that I am weary. And I am weary because my husband has cancer. I don't want peace because it means that I have so many questions. And I have so many questions because my husband has cancer. I don't want joy because that means I am sad. And I am sad because my husband has cancer. I don't want provision because that means I have a need. And I have a need because my husband has cancer. I just want God to take all of this away.
But I am in pain. And I am weary. And I do have questions. And I am sad. And I do have a need. And as much as I just want to plop on the ground, throw a tantrum and not take another step, I run to God. There are times my children throw tantrums out of disobedience, but there are other times when they cry because there is a pain they are experiencing and they just don't know how to express what they are feeling inside. And what they need is a mother's love. And so in the midst of their pain, I offer them comfort. I scoop them up into my arms and I embrace them. I let them cry on my shoulders.
And God has been doing that exact same thing with me. My pain and my feelings do not equate to me turning my back on God. There has not been one time that I have told God I was going to stop serving Him. There has not been one time that I have told God I don't love Him because of what we are going through. But I have been honest with my pain. Because it is painful seeing your husband lying in a hospital bed receiving chemotherapy. It is painful knowing that your children don't understand why daddy doesn't get to spend the night at home. It is painful what we are going through. Even though we know that God is going to get the victory in the end, the path we have to take to get to that victory is painful.
Yet I am reassured because I know that even when I am too weary to pray, God comes to me and scoops me in HIs arm and offers me comfort. Even when I just want to throw a tantrum and not move God reaches down with His loving arms and holds me. When I want to pretend that everything is okay, God wipes those tears from my face and He reassures me that He is not offended by my pain. He is not upset that I don't want to deal with this. He lets me know that He is full of love. And He lets me know that in the darkest time of my life, He is there. And when I don't know how we are going to make it, God lets me know that He will never leave our side and that He will give us exactly what we need when we need it.
And He whispers to me "Take another step. Let that tear fall down your face. I see your pain. I see your hurt. But I also see you getting through this. I am not leaving you. I am not abandoning you. I am right besides you, every step of the way."
"There is no greater love than to lay down one's life for one's friends" (John 15:13)
Here are some more pre-cancer pictures: