Whispers of the heart...

"It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the LORD...He sitteth alone and keep silence, because he hath borne it upon him...For the Lord will not cast off forever: But though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies."

Lamentations 3:26-32

Many have written me or said in person that my openness and "realness" have been a blessing. Being an open book helps them understand a little better and know how to pray. 

I suppose I don't know any other way to be then I am. But I will say, I haven't been nearly as open as I wished to be at times. There are moments throughout the day that are so hard, so "real", and so troublesome that there really are no words to utter. Just tears. 

These are the moments that God just sits and listens to my heart, even though I speak nothing. He lets me tell Him every fear, frustration, fatigue. Memories spill out as I tell God who Molly was before the tumor, as if He didn't know. 

You see, that is the hardest thing. We are grieving two Molly's. The one we knew for about 6 years left us slowly, but is gone now. Our fearless, roller coaster junky who was always the first one up and the last one to bed. She always, ALWAYS was up for a laugh, prank, or joke. But there was so much more. She was sweet, loving, and snuggly. Sometimes moody, she could snap out of it with a tickle. Devotion to sisters like no other. She would be the first to stand up for them. 

But the Molly before our eyes, is not this Molly. She's a new daughter, in a way. She's a shell of who once was. Medications and tumor have changed her personality. We rarely see glimpses of who she was. To get an "I love you" before bed makes us soar. Her smiles are smaller. Her memories are dimmer. She lives in a place that she very seldom lets anyone join her. 

People say, "Enjoy the time. Make lots of memories!" And honestly, it makes me so mad. I would love to make memories and enjoy this time. But in a way, Molly is already gone. She won't let us enjoy her. She pushes us away. She yells. She cries. She demands. And the only joy that she really has is eating... but even that is harder for her now. 

So here we are, trying to do our best. We try to love the girls the way Christ loves us. We are trying to give them some happiness during this time. But the weight is so very heavy. The sadness enveloping at times. 

I realize that if this wasn't me writing this, and I was reading some other person's account, I would probably be confused and not understand. You can't get it unless you live it. But this isn't for anyone else. This is for me. 

I want to remember that the end was hard, so that when someone else is hurting with similar circumstances, I can help them along their way. If anything, I can try to carry some of their pain for them. That and prayer is all we can do. 

A wonderful friend, who is very wise, likened this journey to a mountain. The mountain is so high, you can't just go over it. The only way to the other side is to go THROUGH it. And that's what we are doing. The best we can. 

And I am so very grateful that despite feeling very lonely at times, I can tell it all to my Lord. He listens without judging. And He fully understand because once, He lost a Son. 

Jealousy: the great distraction

I'm not going to lie. So, be warned, I may look a whole lot uglier to you after this post. But the truth is, jealousy has reared it's ugly head. 

I'm not talking cars, houses, clothes, or any other earthly thing you can name. I'm talking down right, "Why is their kid fine and not mine? Look at the fun weekend THEY got to have while I'm here watching my daughter suffer. It's not fair that their kids can play outside while mine can only look at her tablet!" The real nitty, gritty, ugly kind of jealousy. 

It's natural. 

How do I know that? Because the Bible speaks of it so much. God knew we would all struggle with such things and so He added it to His Word so we would hear what He thinks about it. And let me tell you, it's not pretty. 

For instance, I Corinthians 13 speaks on love. Guess what does not make the love list cut? I'll give you a hint. It starts with a "J" and ends in a "always looking at what other people have."

James 3:16: "For where envying and strife is, there is confusion and every evil work."

 When I start looking at everyone else's circumstances, and let that seed begin to grow, then I miss out on all of MY blessings that God chose just for me... because I'm too busy letting the truth be skewed and confusion set in. 

Because that is what jealousy brings us: Confusion. 

So I ask myself tonight, what DO I know? What blessings ARE before me? 

And that my friend is when my list begins to get longer and longer and longer...

I don't desire to become bitter and enraged. I don't desire to compare my circumstances to others. I desire to be happy. I desire to make God happy. I desire to see things for what they really are. And knowing that my God supplies everything, then all that is before me can be a blessing in some way. Even when I have to look twice... or stand on my head to see it. :)

Don't look down

It's been a while since I've been able to write. My fingers and heart have longed to type out words from inside, but I simply haven't had the time. 

I hesitate writing all that is going on because I don't want anything to be taken the wrong way. Even though many say I have every right to feel whatever feelings appears, for those that haven't gone through this, you may not understand. But I've determined to be truthful and real. My goal in writing has always been therapeutic. And if not one other person reads this, I will still be happy because I got it out. Yes, I know there are journals, but honestly, I'm too lazy to use a pen. :)

In the beginning of this phase, this stage of hospice care and waiting, Molly rejected my care. She was angry and let me do nothing for her. I was hurt and devastated that she didn't want her Mother to care for her. My, oh, my, how the pendulum has swung the other way. Molly requires me to do all her care. She not only requires it, but demands that I do everything for her. 

She needs to be fed. Taken to the bathroom. Cleaned. Changed, I even do the coloring for her, mostly. 

Hospice stated in the beginning of all this, that their desire was to aide us in many areas, but one in particular was to help us be parents and not always care givers. You would think the two intertwine, and in a way they do. But when Molly is constantly needing physical care, it is very hard for me to be mentally there or even have the energy for the happy, more fun moments. 

Molly has refused any home aide care for right now. I understand her need for privacy and the desire for me to do all her bathroom and personal care needs. I want her to continue to have as much dignity as possible. But when she will not let anyone else even hold her piece of paper as she tries to color, well, it gets draining. 

I have found myself in a different place than I have been in this whole journey. I have not once gotten angry at God. It is by His amazing grace that I have not felt a twinge of betrayal or that I was somehow cheated. I was never promised a certain amount of days with Molly. I was never assured that my life would be easy. And I am fully aware that God's plan is always best. 

But these past couple of weeks I have felt it cruel that God would continue our life in this state. No end in sight. No healing of hearts. No relief. (And this is where I hesitate in writing in fear that someone would think I am giving up and am done loving Molly. That is NEVER EVER the case.) I have only been able to look at my exhaustion, horror, and sorrow that has been before me. My vision has been skewed. 

It's true. I have no idea what God is doing right now. We don't understand why he's letting this suffering continue. But that's not for us to find out right now. There will be a day. For now, obedience is on the menu. Blind Faith. Falling backwards kind of trust. And I lost it for a bit. I was being clouded by what I was feeling and not what was true. Feelings have the knack for doing that. They cloud the facts.

But as God always does, He remembered me and gave me His word. 

As I was reading through the story of Abraham, I saw something that I never noticed before. Abraham, who was commanded by God to sacrifice his only son, traveled for three days before he got to his destination to perform the sacrifice. 

Can you imagine what that journey was like? Three days of knowing what you were to do, what was to come, what you would see and experience, and yet he kept putting one foot in front of the other. Why? Because he was focused on the act of obedience, not the journey to get there. 

This blew my socks off. 

We know what is going to come. We know what will happen at the end. We know the dark, ugly, and scary. The sorrow and sadness. The final good bye before us. But I don't think God intends us to focus there. He intends us to obey and keep going. Not to look down at our own two feet, but at Him as he waves His arms in the direction to go next. It reminds me of a toddler learning to walk. When they look down at their feet, they stumble. But when they keep their eyes on their parent, they make it farther. 

So the lesson learned, which seems like a funny one to learn during a time like this, is obedience. 100% trust that what God commands is 100% what I'm to do. Thank God I don't have to come up with the next step myself. Because I would have lost it a long time ago. 

So I am determined to continue on and obey. If anything, I know this little truth:

"For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure...That ye may be blameless and harmless...among whom ye shine as lights in the world." Philippians 2:13,15

So shine on!