Waiting here

On Sunday evening I thought I might be going to meet my King. But He said no. Apparently there’s more for me here. And when I look into my husband’s eyes, I know that it’s right. When I read emails from my sisters, I know that I need more time. And when I realise what such a thing would be to my parents, I’m glad  I’m still here.

But this is not the story I planned. This isn’t the 2.5 children, nice house, easy life that I wanted. I have no answers. What is going on?

I know there are good things even in the pain. And I know there are great things ahead. But still, when I wake up at night, I just want to say, ‘Lord, why? Why is this story for me?’

I had a shower today. My first in a few days. Disgusting, I know. But today I managed to stay off oxygen long enough. And I feel clean and happy. A lot cleaner and a lot happier than I do after my usual daily shower. The thing is, when you get really messy, getting clean again is glorious. That’s the way the world works. Loving makes pain worth it, like joy makes sadness worth it and emptying a full bladder makes needing the loo worth it. You laugh, but you know what I mean.

It’s ok to cry. It’s ok to come before the throne and ask what’s going on. Faith doesn’t mean blindly accepting. Faith involves grieving and pain. Faith involves hurting and asking, pleading and screaming.

‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’

But faith knows there is an answer. Because faith trusts in a promise. And in the midst of the questions and the weeping, faith whispers:

‘Your will be done.’