I don't want to leave. I want curl up by the fire with my coffee and read. I want to hold that sweet Lilah and listen to her coo. I want to bake or do anything than deal with cancer and living without our son. I pack the bag to have ready. Snacks, water. The bag a dear friends thought about to
Radiation and chemo. . .every Friday.
The kids are coming. They will see the radiation and infusion areas. I prepare for their questions and the impending side effects. The nurses assure us, this will be the week. He is far enough in.
I have already seen the effects. I see it in his eyes. He's tired. One of our helpers showed up very late for work this morning. Work. The farm. Our only source of income. I step into fear. It blinds me. How will we survive? How will Gary be able to rest if the farm is not cared for. . .But this is not the journey I need to take. I have grace for the moment. Not for the moment that comes after. Just for the here and now.
Matthew 6:25-27 Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
One day while exploring gifts to give to Lilah, I came across these plush rocking animals. One just happened to be Elijah the Elephant. I am serious. Crystal, Elijah's girl friend, loves elephants. Ok, she is obsessed, in a very healthy way, with elephants. So, when I saw this rocking horse, I thought it was a fitting gift.
I look at Lilah and I think, she will never know Uncle Elijah. She will never feel his hugs, or climb on him like a jungle gym. She will never crawl in his lap and hear his deep voice read a story - so animated. But she will know him. Because we will not forget. She will rock on Elijah the Elephant until she is too big. Then she will hear the stories of his life. She will hear about the grace extended to this hurting family over and over; and she will know.
Isn't it that the way of our Faith. We want to share. We want this hurting world to know the Peace that is offered so freely. The peace that came as a child. The peace that passes all understanding. The gift so overlooked and passed by.
We will spend the day at the hospital. I will have my coffee and I will read. It just won't be in front of the fire. We will spend time together as a family, making the best of the situation. And the house will not get cleaned and I will still be wrapping presents in the wee morning hours to celebrate Christmas with my dad and brothers family.
Because that's just the way it goes.
So, I will step into the grace for the moment.
And not worry about any other.
How do you deal with worry and the unknown?
Would you share with us your experience?