In Times of Grief

Let me start this post with a little disclaimer. This post is not about homeschooling, so please don't close the window when you see the word "Homeschool" in the post.

My second disclaimer is that this post is raw. It is where I am. Writing it was gut-wrenching. If you take the time to read it, I will be deeply honored that you chose to spend a few of your precious moments reading my words.

I get a newsletter each week called "The Homeschool Minute." I read it when the topic seems to be applicable to me, and, since it is a homeschooling newsletter, it often is. Lately, I haven't had much time for reading newsletters. Today, however, I knew this newsletter was just for me when I saw the theme in the subject line in my in-box. "In Times of Grief," so reading it wasn't optional for me this time.

This season of life? It is most certainly a time of grief. I feel like I've been here before, but it's different this time. This time, what the doctor said would happen is happening. This time, in spite of my knowledge that God can work a miracle, in spite of the fact that the doctor himself used the words, "short of a miraculous intervention," I find myself preparing for the worst case scenario because the doctor was right, afterall. The cancer did return just as he predicted.

I am not discounting God's ability to intervene. I know that He can. I know that He does. I know these things. I also know that He has gifted doctors with knowledge and abilities that I do not possess, and, while He trumps anything they say, He sometimes uses those doctors to prepare us. I know that God will heal my mama. He could choose to let her stay with us. He could work a miracle here on earth. I know this.

I also know that, sometimes, He doesn't. Sometimes, healing happens in heaven. Sometimes, His plan isn't what I want.

But I can't forget that, all the time, He is the Healer. All the time, He cares for me. All the time, His plan is perfect even if His plan isn't what I think I want.

Besides, what I want doesn't really matter. I want my mom HERE. Doesn't everyone? It's sort of selfish when you think about choosing to keep someone here versus letting them experience the perfection of heaven. I want my mom healthy, happy, and pain-free. As hard as it is to write or think or say out loud...

Healthy, happy, and pain-free are the most important to me, and, if she can only have that in heaven, then so be it.

It's crushing.

If you haven't lost a parent or someone equally as close to you, you may not understand what I'm feeling right now. 13 months ago, I didn't understand. I have lost four grandparents and a great aunt that I thought of as a grandmother, and I adored all of them, but losing them doesn't compare to what I'm going through right now.

My mother is sick. Cancer is trying to destroy her. God is in charge. I have to trust Him. I have to be willing to follow Him in spite of what happens. I hope she defeats this. I want her to live. I want God to be glorified in her life and because of her life.

No matter what happens, I choose Abba Father because His ways are perfect and His ways are not my ways. I will not pretend to understand this ever, but I will trust Him. Always. I will trust Him.