I come here today with a heavy heart. I don't know what to say. I feel completely broken. It's funny how that happens. For a little while things start to get better, for a little while, you feel like you're starting to heal. You try harder, live happier. You become more obedient to God. You remember your purpose. And Satan says 'oh I don't think so'. And he throws an arsenal at you. And that is how I feel today. I feel like curling up and crying. I don't' want to keep doing this. I am so tired. I'm so defeated. And yet, I refuse to quit fighting. He will not win. I won't let him. God's already won, I can't give up now. But oh, how easy it would be.
In three days there has been more heartache and hurt than I can bear to imagine, much less experience. And yet, here I sit tears streaming down my face with more burdens than I know what to do with. As I posted before my Daddy is sick. It was a very factual post. I need people to pray. But now, I realize, it's my Daddy, ya'll. My Daddy. My only ally in my family. I'm his girl. He and I have always been the closest. And now he's sick. And I have to be strong. For him, for my kids. And I'm terrified. Only 4 short years ago we fought this fight with my Daddy in law, and it was a very short battle. I can't bear to think that. I can't even bear to think about it. I don't want this to be real. I want to wake up and it all be a dream. And tomorrow is the day that we know for sure. And I want today to never end.
Yesterday morning my mom came over to sit with my kids bc I wasn't feeling well and as soon she got there, her phone rang. Her very best friend in the world, a woman who grew up as family, like an aunt to me, had surgery earlier this week. She arrested on the table, and never woke up. This is her best friend in the world. Like my beloved 'S'. Like her sister. Closer than a sister. She is on a ventilator now, and it doesn't look good. They did an EEG yesterday and it was flat. They'll do another tomorrow, but there isn't much hope. And tomorrow is the day we'll be with Daddy at the hospital having his tests run. Please, please pray. I know God can do anything. I know he can. I just don't know what his will is. And I don't even know what to ask for.
There has been more hurt, just in the last 12 hours. One friend caught in a seemingly hopeless situation. Stuck in a horrible cycle of abuse, and I feel so helpless. I know you can't help someone who won't let you. I know she has to choose that. My heart breaks for her, for her children. And I feel so helpless. And another friend is hurting so deeply that she tried to take her own life last night. I can not say more than that, but it has opened my eyes to so much. And it hurts because I know that pain. I know how she feels, I hurt with her, and for her. There is so much today, that the tears that are usually dry, flow freely.
Today my heart hurts today. There is so much pain and fear and uncertainty and I'm doing the very best that I can to give it all up to God. I want him to take it because I can't handle it. I can't handle my brother speaking to me in sympathy, like he has a heart. Like he could possibly hurt like I hurt over this. Over Daddy being sick. MY DADDY. And yes, *I know*, but this is my blog, and I can be as bitter and petty as I want right now. Sue me.
I can't take any more hurt. I want to curl up and scream, or cry, or just stop functioning for a while. It might do me some good. I'm afraid of tomorrow, not only because of what I know it might bring, but also because of the things that I have no idea could be coming. I can't take another blow to the head. Not now.
I'm a wife. I'm a mom. I'm a photographer. I'm a lover of Jesus. My house is a mess, my kids are dirty, we eat take out more often than not. My life is loud, busy and crazy. And that's okay with me.
This is Eric, the man you've been praying for. He's a paramedic. He quilts in his spare time. No, I couldn't make that up :) He has NASH (a form of liver disease, non-alcoholic) and diabetes, but those things don't define him. He's a man of God, an insanely wonderful husband, and the best daddy in the world.. Just ask these guys..
Our daughter Ali, she's 9. She's fiercely opinionated and strong willed. She's a Daddy's girl, but the umbilical cord hasn't but cut from me, either. She's a gymnast, and proud of it. She spends more time upside down or turning flips than she does walking. She's crazy smart, and absolutely sure of it. She is my insufferable little know it all.
Our son Dylan, 7. We lovingly refer to him as Chubs. Or Chubby. Or fat boy. Ahem. He is all boy, as you can see by his crazy wild energy. He has the highest pain tolerance of any child I have ever met. He plays soccer and does gymnastics, but truly he is a gamer, a nerd. He is an avid reader and loves to climb. Not to be outdone by his sister, he's a drama king, but to him, I'm the best mommy in the world.
I'm here to use my voice. So many people can't. In a world of darkness, I just want to help God's light to shine through. I pray that my words are His, and my love is His, as well. This is my journey through the darkness. To start are the beginning of the story, click here.