Rain

It rained today. It poured, and I felt like I was drowning. The rain was too much of a parallel to my own life today. Every time it seemed to let up it would begin again, but harder, like it was trying to suffocate you and wash you away. I wished it would stop. Having the outside world match your inner pain is overwhelming. But my son looked at me and said, “Mom, the mud puddles are going to be awesome!”

Where are my mud puddles? I want to run through them laughing and soaking up the rewards of the rain. But some days they never come. It just rains. Days when you feel deep loneliness in a full clinic because families you started treatment with are home, cancer free, and you are still there. Days when a bald little girl with a doll brings you to your knees because she reminds you of another little girl who now walks with Jesus. Days when a father throws his coffee against the bathroom wall because it all hurts too much. Days when you walk down a hospital hall filled with children you don’t recognize because they’re all new and it breaks you. Days when the tears are unending. And days, upon days, upon days filled with doubt whether you made the right decision and knowing it will be months before you find out. Months. Days that run into nights where sleep never comes but you are so tired. I am tired and Holden is tired and the finish line for the marathon we never trained for seems so very far away. And all I can do is sit. Sit, breathe through the pain, and let my heart cry out to Jesus because I don’t have the words. I simply don’t have words that big.

“When tragedy makes its unwelcome appearance and we are deaf to everything but the shriek of our own agony, when courage flies out the window and the world seems to be a hostile, menacing place, its the hour of our own Gethsemane…The night is bad. Our minds are numb, our hearts vacant, our nerves shattered. How will we make it through the night? The God of our lonely journey is silent. And yet it may happen in these most desperate trials of our human existence that beyond any rational explanation, we may feel a nail-scarred hand clutching ours…In our vulnerability and defenselessness we experience the power of Jesus in His present riseness.” –Brennan Manning, Abba’s Child

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3 Comments Add yours

  1. Lisa A says:

    You aren’t alone. You’ve got prayers and love being sent your way every day. Let the rain fall! When life gives you rain, God gives you rainbows! Believe that your rainbow is going to be big, bright, and with a big reward at the end of it! Believe!! ❤️ Hugs!

  2. Rachel says:

    10 Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. 11 Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. 12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. 13 Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. 14 Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, 15 and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. 16 In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. 17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. – Ephesians 6:10-17

  3. Keely says:

    You don’t know me but I know of you through a friend. I can very much relate to all of your posts! I have had two children with cancer. Both are survivors; that said, it was no easy battle as both were end stage IV when found. Neurblastoma and nephroblastoma. I have felt everything you have described at one time or another. And yes, the very worst is seeing your child in pain and not being able to do anything about it. That was the one thing that I struggled with the most both times. Feeling alone on a crowded clinic floor never changes either. Hold on, pray when you can, when you can’t your life is a prayer and you are experiencing Calvary! Others will pray for you. Ask for healing. I know the fear of the No, but sometimes we are brought to our knees and asked to surrender everything. Surrendering our children is not something that comes natural, nor should it, but sometimes we’re asked to give it all. Maybe He’s waiting for total surrender before a healing. Our miracles came after total surrender. Won ‘t go into detail, but we were broken. I have not lost a child and that would be more than I think I could handle. My mind had to go there though and at one point I even had to kiss my son goodbye as he was not expected to survive surgery. I’m not posting to discourage but from your posts I can see your spiritual maturity and I would like to encourage you to keep surrendering to God… Sometimes it’s a constant process; every day, every hour, sometimes every second. As St. Paul says when we suffer we are participating in the sufferings of Christ. Col 1:24

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