what do you do when your instinct is to do nothing else?
“don’t put your life on hold.” BUT IF THAT’S WHAT LOVING HIM DOES, THEN IS IT WRONG?
WHO SAYS ANYWAY?!
Abba, i know that i don’t have to beg, but i don’t know if my asking will change your plan. BUT i’ll beg of YOU anyway: Please, in YOUR infinite mercy, take him home!! for his sake and for mine. i try to take “me” out of it, but i’m tangled in this mess along with him…my hand in his. not wanting to let go, yet seeing his deterioration. knowing how much he can take and that there’s not much more. so please, please ABBA release him from this shackled planet.
i wish that i could draw! i would memorize his hands, the way he smiles, the curve of his ear, his cute bald head. how the chemo/radiation took all of his hair but a tuft at his collar. when the “all we have is time” starts to run faster through the hourglass, i feel myself running to stop it!
i see her on the other side of loss. i hug her neck and she whispers, “the pain doesn’t get better on the other side, but theirs does.”
i know an ‘eventually’ will come.
as our parents leap for joy in Glory, some day we will rejoice with them. but only as the missing of them becomes easier…
i saw him as DAD today. not as “my child” or my obligation or responsibility. but as MY DAD!
capable of making his own choices and decisions.
i’m not “taking care of him,” i’m just being here. maybe that’s what he means by
“____ will understand.”
I’m his child. He looks out for me and cares for my by saying “no” when a choice is his.
stubborn or not, he’s my Dad. I’m the child.
“Not by might, nor by power, but by MY SPIRIT says the Lord of Hosts.” Zech. 4:6
it repeats in my head.
NOT BY MIGHT
NOR BY POWER
BUT BY MY SPIRIT
SAYS THE LORD OF HOSTS
my prayers have turned to begging. “please Abba, take him home!”
this part of cancer is not what anyone expects.
i expected the hair loss, weight loss, pain and sadness and RAGE.
not the excruciating pain where he asks me to literally shoot him.
i know it’s in jest…but some truth looks out of those blue eyes with pupils a bit too large.
he’s exhausted…begging for sleep to come…for just a few hours of relief.
hospice comes today. soon actually. maybe death and HEAVEN aren’t long in coming either.
i know that Jesus hears me…sees me. hears and bears ALL THINGS–even Dad’s cancer, pain, fear of saying “goodbye” for the last time.
“i don’t know what people do without Jesus.”
“me either, Dad. me either”
thank You, Abba for these months of healing for our relationship. for time to become his friend. “HONORED” ISN’T ENOUGH OF A WORD!! thank YOU that it’s YOUR TIME that we await. that as i go back and forth between, “i’m not ready to say goodbye.” and “take him home?!” that YOU KNOW THE DAY AND HOUR! that Your Spirit will usher him into Glory! OH, WHAT A JOY!!! To be free of Pain! To breathe easy and free. CANCER WILL BE A MEMORY. will he even care then?
and for us, Sweet Jesus, we will cling to the memories of laughter.
the girls doing his nails.
silly parties with cupcakes, cookies, or balloons and silly string.
playing cards in the hospital.
his off color jokes that make ya giggle while shaking your head.
his gas. his laughter about them.
maybe those things aren’t by might or power either.
BUT BY YOUR SPIRIT too!