I Don't Want This

After returning to Wyoming from my first trip to Ohio, I immediately started making preparations for our family's return trip back to Ohio the next week.  An eye procedure for Doug; an endocrinology appointment for Selah; a diabetes education class for Trinity; packing; shopping; and finals for Jacob; all had to be completed in the days leading up to our cross country trek.

Upon receiving a text from my brother Wed night - the eve of our departure - stating my mom's time was short - even shorter than we initially anticipated - Techno and I made the decision to drive straight through from Wyoming to Ohio the next morning, as soon as Jacob finished his last exam.  No hotel stay as originally planned - just gas, food, and 'potty' breaks.

As we drove, my mind raced.  Would we make it?  How could this REALLY be happening?

Her will was waining the longer I was away.  The longer it took for the remainder of her grandkids to arrive.  Her body was so weak.

I prayed we'd arrive in time to say goodbye.

I could hardly believe I needed to utter such a prayer.  It was surreal.

All the kids were crammed in the car with our belongings.  Enough to get us through a 24+ hour long drive and a week of 'visiting' away from home.

At one of our many gas stops, I managed to be alone in the bathroom of this nondescript , small filling station.  Sitting there, sobs came.  I remember literally crying out to God, saying, "God, I don't want this. Any of this."  My heart was breaking.  Broken.

In just a couple short months our girls' childhoods had been changed forever.  Their lives now altered by type 1 diabetes.  Weeks later, our lives were once again in upheaval.  My mom was dying.  All in 10 weeks time.  It didn't seem real.  Possible.  It seemed as though it might be more than I could bear.

As I cried, I recalled Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.  He too cried out to God in anguish.  He knew his own death was imminent.  He knew he must be crucified. He knew he had to die on the cross. Be buried.  All in order to conquer death once and for all.  For all of creation.  For all who believe in Him. In Mathew 26; 39 and 42 he pleaded with God to take that cup from him.  Much like I wanted to plead with God to take away all that was transpiring in our lives.  Yet Jesus didn't cease there.  He then followed up with, "nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt."

As I cried, I surrendered - just a little - the cup that I had been passed.  The cup of grief I was holding on to. The loss I so deeply felt from the chronic disease of type 1 diabetes now being an ever present thorn in our girls' sides.  The looming physical loss of my own mom from this earth.  I wept.  I laid a small part of my grief at Jesus' feet on that very cross on which he died.  The place he took my sins, my pain upon himself.

The heaviness was still present.  The grief was not gone.

Yet, I knew I didn't have to carry it alone.

God's shoulders were much heftier than my own.  His strong, loving hands would help lift the burden of the grief; to ease the pain - just a little.  I knew he grieved too.  He KNEW my pain, my sorrow, my loss.

I love because He first loved me.  1John 4:19

I feel this pain, this sorrow, this loss because of love.  The love I have for my precious little girls.  The love I have for my mom.  The woman who taught me love by her actions when I was but a little girl.

Yet, God's love will carry me through.  Will give me strength.  Will one day heal the hurt.

Even though this time of grief is hard.  Unrelenting, it often seems.  I know it's all because of love.  My love.  My girls' love.  My mom's love.  Ultimately...... HIS love.