This past year or more, my thought have been more dark, moody. It has been reflected in my writing. Let’s face it, I am writing about my journey of life and what I am learning about God and myself. It’s only natural that my writing is reflecting what I am thinking about. I sincerely hope at the end of this chapter, that I can tell you about God’s faithfulness and how he carried me through the most difficult part of my life thus far. I am still entrenched in the process, so what I have to share is what I am currently experiencing. Perhaps you too, have gone down this road, or anticipating the day you will.
This has not been a fun part of the journey. There have been sweet moments that I try to imprint in my mind with the intention of pulling out the memories when I need them. There have been incredibly frustrating days where I have felt helpless and alone. There have been days of false hope, and days of no hope. There has been laughter, there has been tears.
What has surprised me the most is the fact I have been able to put my emotions in a box. Things I thought I would be in tears about, devastated by, I have looked at almost with detachment. A odd acceptance of what is happening. I don’t really understand it. I have to believe it is God hold me, otherwise how could I do what I am doing?
Yesterday, and yet again today, I have been forced to accept that for mom, there is no hope for life, no hope for more time, more love, more kisses, more I love you’s. My mom is digressing, failing to thrive. She is getting weaker, and actually fell yesterday. The reality of being on Hospice means, not seeking help for her, not getting medical intervention. The realization that we won’t be seeking antibiotics, she is allergic to most of them, not going to do tests to determine what is actually going on; as she doesn’t understand and it is cruel to force her to do the medical tests knowing she is dying.
I can intellectualize she is on hospice. The emotional divergence is how odd it is not to try to make her better. It makes me feel helpless. I want to help, I want to make it better. It is out of my hands, not my authority to decide for her. I have to let go. Just when I decide to let go, I realize I have even more to let go of. Will I ever really let go and let God? This is where the rubber meets the road so to speak. Do I trust him with her? Do I trust his word, and his promises? This has on so many levels shaken me out of complacencies and lip service. What do I really believe about life and what do I really believe about death?
I know that I am seeking reassurance from the only one who can help me. I am seeking to find that foundation I say I believe in. Right now it feels shaky and I hope when I am on the other side of this process, it will be solid. I had told you in the beginning when I first started to blog that I am writing about my experiences with God. This is the real me. This is the real process of how I grow and get to know him. I will share what I learn from this. In the meantime, thank you for reading.