Struggle

Lately I've struggled a lot with what to write in this blog. Is it possible I've run out of words to share and say? I've just lost a lot of my motivation. I'm disappointed in God. There I said it - I'm completely disappointed in his lack of support, guidance and comfort. I get so mad sometimes that I can feel crazy eyes bulging out of my face. I cry violently and yell at God. Once I calm down I think about how it really isn't his fault. He wouldn't have wanted any of this to happen to my mom or my family. But then I remember that he's the only person who could fix it...who could turn this all around and provide a miracle. But he hasn't...and that makes me really mad. The whole cycle begins to repeat.

I don't think I'm a crazy person though because I deal with these emotions, adversities and small tragedies every day. I deal with more crap than the average person my age. Some people realize that and other's really don't. I have to make choices every single day about where and how I'm going to spend my time. I'll be honest, these past three weeks have been some of the worst in my whole life. My mom's health is deteriorating rapidly - to the point where I haven't even been able to see her. I saw her for the first time in two weeks yesterday. We were encouraged to wear robes, masks and gloves when entering the room because the risk of multi-drug resistance (MDR) is high. That's just scary. She sleeps all day and when she's awake she either cries or moans in pain. It's not a pleasant situation. As a little kid I remember older relatives of mind passing away - I remember them in their awful, painful and sickly state. If I really push past that and think about their life, I can remember multiple fun occasions that would have been different without their presence. But it's those really hard memories that sit in the forefront of your brain - why that is I don't know. I just know that I never want to remember my mom in this way, so I resort to sorting through old photo albums and retelling fun stories from the past to anyone that will listen. I don't know how my dad sits there day in and day out - I guess he lives for the moments she's at peace sleeping. We all live for those moments...it's just hard to be there to witness them.

I can handle my dad being away from home 24/7 because I would want him by my bedside too if this ever happened to me...but it's hard for Michael to understand or think that way. Yesterday my dad called from the hospital and asked me to make a grocery list. Right before I hung up, Michael came running through the house screaming for the phone. I handed him the phone thinking "what could possibly be so important"? Michael got on the phone and said "Dad, it's me. I just wanted to tell you I love you". What was funny - Michael didn't even wait for my dad to respond - he said what he needed to say and threw the phone back at me to hang up. I asked Michael why he didn't wait for a response and he said "it's more important he hears it from me". He ran off to build something with legos and I stood there in the kitchen staring at the iphone in my hand. Of all the people to teach me a lesson about showing affection and love it would come from my 9 year old brother - typical. I talk to my dad on the phone probably more than anyone does these days because I'm confused about something he's asked me to do or I'm getting the 'okay' to order take out or making sure that the dishes in the dishwasher are dirty...I never think to call without a purpose, just to tell him he's a great dad and that I love him. I guess even that phone call has a purpose though - might even be a little more important than eating off dirty dishes too.

The devotion for today is from Ecclesiastes 4:9-12. We weren't created to be alone, but to be with other people - because together we are strong. The passage reads "two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed. If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. Three are even better, for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken". Most of the time I feel alone, desperate for attention and affection. I forget that you have to give to receive. I typically don't call people to tell them I love them...I just don't. But maybe I should. Michael's right, sometimes it's more important that you give love rather than receive it. It might be more important to spread love to others rather than hoard it for yourself. I live in a world without the promise of tomorrow - I live in a world where it's easy for demons to dwell. I have to remember that God is present - whether He shows Himself or not - and expects me to love unconditionally and believe that maybe tomorrow will be better. He wants me to reach out and help my dad cope. He wants me to not be a coward when it comes to my feelings. He wants me to live a life filled with other people and not one of tears and isolation. This is no easy task and I have no doubt that I'll continue to make mistakes and doubt.

I think of faith sorta like riding a bike. Nobody in the history of bike riding was able to ride all the way to the end of the street the first time they started riding. First you learn to peddle, then you push off the ground yourself and then you figure out how to balance your weight so you don't topple over. If you were anything like me, you probably crashed your bike into the lone pine tree at Lakewood Park. My dad pulled all the pine needles out of my blonde hair, sat me back on that bike and pushed me off again. I don't remember if I wanted to try to ride again or not, but my dad knew it was important I learn. Eventually, with practice, riding a bike becomes second nature and is an enjoyable leisure time activity. Faith is something you have to work at - it's not something you can immediate perfect in a short amount of time, or ever. We need people to help pick us up when we're down. God gives us the people we need...but it's up to us to ask for the help. Nobody can read our minds and know exactly what to say - It'd be super nice if they could. Until that day comes we've gotta make those "I love you" phone calls and wait by the bedside for a miracle, no matter how hard it may be.