Trigger Word Warning: steroids, miscarriage, grief, cancer, death, “hellish”.
The following conziztz of the steroid-induced rAmblings of a certain author…Namwely me. I am officially pledging at this moment in time to NEVER edit this or filter it. **Disclaimer: I am under the influence os steroids and caffeine due to an allergic reaction, so I may be…no, I probably will be; lacking in discretion. Translatrion: expletives may indeed abound. My sincerest apologies ahead of time. You have been warned.**
Life is funny sometimes. I don’t just mean funny as in hahaha, but also funny as in strange. I am consistently surprised by how oftern (nice word I just coined…oftern, as in, “often+ concerned=oftern”) …by how often I am concerned about where my identity comes from. For quite some consistent time, I have had the same job duty. Circumstances beyond the control of EVERYONE (literally, everyone) came about and now, that identity; that work that I once did is no longer mine anymore.
My brilliant James discerned that my identity is shaking because I am basing it on what I do; instead of who I am and WHOSE I AM. He is correct. This part of my life has been a part of me and my story for so long…I am talking “20 years long”. Really…more than half of my life.
I have been slowly becoming aware that my identity affects all areas of my life. When we miscarried, I felt like my identity as that sweet baby boy’s mother was ripped out of me. It took me time to scream and yell and get really angry with God before I realized that I am still a mother to my sweet baby boy. This past summer, some of our kiddos went to camp together for a family bonding experience without the parental guidance tagging along. While they were away, I was still their mother…even if I couldn’t see them. I knew that at the end of their time, I would get to hold them and hear their stories about camp. My love for them didn’t diminish with our time apart; it grew in strength.
In the same way, my dear little boy and his dear older sister are both my babies; even if they are dead and not able to be seen. I am their mother. No matter where they are.
We have a beloved one that we know who is dying of cancer. It sucks. It’s hellish. We all love her so much. We all want more than anything to take away her pain and suffering; to have her restored to health. I want to be beside her and hold her hand…and here I am on steroids and sick with an infection that won’t go away. The kids have had colds; and I would never dream of even exposing her to anything that would make it worse for her.
I origibnally felt guilty for not being there physically. My wise friend and also my husband have both been gently showing me that it’s ok. By staying away, I am actually taking care of her and protecting her from the germs that would harm her. I am still a part of her and she is still a part of me. That’s what love does. Even when we can’t be together physically, we are still joined together by our love.
Sometimes, I forget that God’s Love NEVER quits. I see the chaos of life swirling around me and hear the waves of uncertainty crash over me, and my stomach feels knotted and I have a scream choking my throat and I want to panic and so I yell, “God!!!!! Where are YOU? I can’t see you!!”
I am still a mother, even if I can’t see my children. I am still a loved one even if I can’t physically be there.
God’s love never quits.
Even when I feel alone, even when I can’t physically see God literally in front of me; his love is inexplicably here.
As the waves of uncertainty crash and roar, as the chaos swirls around your ankles, may you ALWAYS have the courage to scream and ask God where He is; and may you ALWAYS have the tender heart and unveiled eyes to see the answer.