I'm going to pour my heart out, and if it doesn't make sense, I'm sorry. There's things going on right now that I can't talk about, but the worry and despair is eating at me. And if I don't get to regurgitate some of this mess somewhere, I may explode.
First off, everything's fine at home. Well, fine as it can be. We've got our issues, but Bryan and I are solid, and the kids are great. God knows I love my kids. They are the best kids anywhere. I'm so grateful for them.
As many of you know, Bryan's mom's health continues to decline. We're kind of in the waiting phase. I hate the waiting phase. It feels so macabre to plan what you're going to do in the event of the death of a loved one.
But right now, with my whole heart, I wish it was only her death I was anticipating.
Have you ever lamented keeping your silence? I mean, really. Something will happen, and it seems small at the time, but you know how hindsight is always 20/20 and, looking back, you see how asserting your belief could have made a difference. Why do we keep silent? Is it fear? Probably, most of it. We're human, and we fear being disagreed with, or mocked, because of what be believe.
The worst kind of shocks come when everything seems to be going well. But we all know how that feels. And, it seems like, the better things are the worse the hit is when it comes.
So, right now I'm anticipating my first novel this December, going around and preselling the book, talking to ppl about it, feeling pretty on top of the world in some respects.
You can imagine how hard the hit was, and still is. (Don't worry--everything's still on track with the book as far as I know. This is a personal hit)
I ache for those I love who are affected. I'm fasting and constantly praying for them. I'm scared out of my mind I'll get that phone call. And I hate feeling afraid.
In short, I'm a mess. And only God can fix it.
2 comments:
I. Am. So. Sorry. I have some inkling of how you feel (though none of us know EXACTLY how the other one feels). I got THAT call earlier this spring to tell me that my mother was gone. Healthy one week and gone the next. I was not prepared. Not really. I mean, I had my faith but no immediate answers as to "why" this had happened. And it almost wasn't important to know why. At least not for the first few days of grieving.
And I know what you mean about hurting for those you love. My husband's mother had been gone for almost 19 years, so my Mom had also been his Mom. The poor guy grieved silently while trying to hold me together, but I could tell he was hurting. Not only did he feel for me, but for the woman who had been his Mom almost as long as his biological one.
I'll keep you in my prayers and that either she'll be blessed with recovery, or that you'll have the peace that comes through faith in a higher purpose. Take heart! And congratulations again on your book coming out. Perhaps having something to look forward to will actually help right now in keeping you from worrying 100 percent of the time. :) Or at least one can hope.
Thank you. You're very kind. :)
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