Recovery and Reality

The time difference is only 8 hours. I didn't have any kids with me. How hard could it be? Eeeesssshhhh. We had some long days thrown into our 10 day trip to Greece and then 25 hours of traveling home that was very rushed and not in the least bit relaxing. I expected an onslaught of 'mommy, guess what', 'mommy, come here', 'mommy, I (fill in the blank)' upon my arrival and was not disappointed. What I was not prepared for was for those sweet voices to become overly whiny and cranky in a matter of hours of my arrival. To their credit, they were absolutely wonderful while I was away. I think they were just saving it up for me. The combination of what they saved for me and my own crankiness has made the transition back into the world of Six Linos reality very interesting. My sweet husband did finally tell me to go to bed because I was the one that was cranky.

Well, I have slept.........done laundry, cooked dinner, tended to four kids, gone to Bible study, made a big grocery run, cleaned house and volunteered at the school. I would like to say that all is good now, but I think it will take us a few more days to get into our 'you really have to do what mommy says on the first try' routine. Amidst my crankiness and bad attitude, the Lord gave me a dose of reality. He reminded me of an alternative to my stable, joyful, fairly predictable existence.

A friend from high school facing cancer in her 6 year old's body does not have such a predictable, stable life.............

At first, Round 2 seemed easier than the first go -- the drugs were familiar, the place itself was familiar.  But I have to admit that it's all beginning to unravel.  The newness has worn off.  Hospital living is not fun.  Cancer stinks.  Our life has been turned upside down and shaken around and feels like it is still lying in shambles.  We have not even begun to pick up the pieces, really.  Today I told Jason, "It just feels like we are on pause, like we are not really living life.  How are we supposed to live this life?"

I hate the way I sound when I complain like this....I beat myself up for complaining, and stuff it all in and put on my strong face...but then I find myself sobbing all the way to the airport to see my sister off, and snapping at Adah, and wanting to do anything but face this whole thing.  There are shining moments, and many blessings we can give thanks for.  Adah herself was pointing them out last night.  "If I hadn't gotten sick, I would never have met...(here she listed several people who have become dear to us, most prominent among them, Dr. Ami)."  She is right. 

But it's still hard, and I am kicking against the goads right now in my spirit.  Longing for something resembling normalcy, for mornings at home and home-cooked food and walks outside and snuggling with both girls and no IVs, for baths and routine and uninterrupted sleep, homeschool, anything.  And yet I know that as comforting as those things are, in God alone is true rest, contentment, and peace.  He is our home.  There is a table spread for us in this valley...but sometimes I feel like I am just groping along picking up scraps.

How pitiful must I look before the sovereign God who sustains and gives life abundantly to me? Not only does my family suffer through this bad attitude of mine, but more importantly, I have failed miserably to bring glory to Him alone. I am ashamed to think of the opportunities I have missed over the past two days to disciple my children (instead of sending them upstairs to play) or worse yet, share my story of life change with people I encounter.

Sleep won't fix this. Only my time with the Lord and a spirit of humility and willingness for my life to not be about me will make the days ahead a pleasing sight unto the Lord - or anyone around me for that matter.

I will praise you, O LORD, among the nations; I will sing of you among the peoples. For great is your love, higher than the heavens; your faithfulness reaches to the skies. Psalm 108:3-4