Keeping me. Part 1
About four years ago, I felt like our lives were kind of falling apart. I had been battling a burning mouth for close to a year (a very uncomfortable, sometimes painful condition where your mouth feels like you burned it on hot food all the time, except you haven't). I had injured my knee and was at therapy constantly. Smith had been in the ER over the summer and at the doctor's repeatedly for bronchitis, later diagnosed asthma and a peanut allergy. Jaret had a mysterious back injury and was in bed for a month.
The uncertainty and hard daily realities of all these things was taking a toll. Life in our family felt very dull, lifeless and draining. There were temptations in that season that were more intense than any other for me. I felt a little like we were sinking.
I talked to one of my dearest friends in the thick of it. We were in a public place, but I could not hold myself together. I sobbed yucky, snotty, gasping tears as I told her of my fear, pain, and the silence I felt from God. Most distinctly, I remember telling her that I just wanted to be a good little girl so that He would leave me alone. That I would try do it all right, hold it all together so He didn't have to wound me and teach me some hard lesson. I was terrified of the pain that could come. But the thing was, I felt like He was already wounding me, and my efforts to be a good little girl hadn't been enough.
Fast forward a couple months, and I'd had foot surgery and hopes for another procedure to help my knee. Jaret was up and functioning again, getting therapy for his back. Smith was on meds and improving. I started taking zinc and my burning mouth improved significantly. Things were far from perfect, and we felt a little wrecked from what our lives had been that year, but it seemed we were moving forward.
And then the cancer.
The uncertainty and hard daily realities of all these things was taking a toll. Life in our family felt very dull, lifeless and draining. There were temptations in that season that were more intense than any other for me. I felt a little like we were sinking.
I talked to one of my dearest friends in the thick of it. We were in a public place, but I could not hold myself together. I sobbed yucky, snotty, gasping tears as I told her of my fear, pain, and the silence I felt from God. Most distinctly, I remember telling her that I just wanted to be a good little girl so that He would leave me alone. That I would try do it all right, hold it all together so He didn't have to wound me and teach me some hard lesson. I was terrified of the pain that could come. But the thing was, I felt like He was already wounding me, and my efforts to be a good little girl hadn't been enough.
Fast forward a couple months, and I'd had foot surgery and hopes for another procedure to help my knee. Jaret was up and functioning again, getting therapy for his back. Smith was on meds and improving. I started taking zinc and my burning mouth improved significantly. Things were far from perfect, and we felt a little wrecked from what our lives had been that year, but it seemed we were moving forward.
And then the cancer.
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