Those Darn Tears

So.

After my husband, Gary, and I had our morning coffee on the patio, enjoying the majestic beauty of the morning accompanied by songbirds, (it’s what old people do, OK?), we went in and I prepared him an unusually good breakfast…which is rare for me.  Afterward, while we were cleaning up the kitchen, I felt my energy leak out of me as though some sinister something had pulled a plug.  When I was finished, I laid down the drying towel, walked  out of the kitchen and went upstairs to change the sheets on our bed.  I had been awake for 3 hours, but it felt like 12.  The newly made bed with fresh sheets was too much of a temptation, so I grabbed my pillow and stretched out across the comforter to rest.

Fairly quickly, Gary came looking for me, (I’m like a child; if I’m too quiet, I may be in trouble!)  He assumed, and asked if I had a migraine because it’s unusual for me to lie down during the day unless that is the case.  I told him I was just “so tired.”   He seemed somewhat alarmed.  “It’s too early for that to begin because of the radiation, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.  I only know that I am tired and need to rest.”

“OK, babe,” he said gently.  Then he covered my face with kisses, closed the blinds, turned on the air filter and left the room.  And I cried; his tenderness was overwhelming.

On Sunday, as I was putting on makeup for church, I began thinking about one of my grandsons who recently moved to another state.  Except for one year, until his family moved, he had lived close to me since the day he was born.  In fact, I watched his traumatic entrance into the world and prayed desperately for him to live.  We had this thing every time he left our home.  I would say, “I love you.”  Then he said, “I love you more,” and I would respond by saying, “No, I love you most,” and so it went until they pulled out of the driveway.  As he grew older, it became a challenge for him to say that he loved me the most – to infinity, to the moon, forever and beyond; you get my drift.  On Sunday, after just completing my lovely eye makeup, (pink, by the way, for breast cancer), I suddenly began wondering if he still ‘loved me more” and I began to cry, messing up my newly applied makeup.  Honestly, I had to reapply three times!  Very annoying.

Then today – I was scheduled to see the radiation doc either before or after my treatment. It was a rare time that I went after work, so they were running a bit behind.  No mention of seeing the doctor beforehand, so I assumed afterward.  Hmmmmm, no one calling my name so I ask about the appointment.  ‘Oh, gee, Mrs. Smith, that appointment was cancelled and rescheduled.’

“Was anyone going to tell me about it?”

“Uh, well, it just happened an hour ago, because he got behind at the other office.  I’m sorry; I guess no one told you.”

“No.  No one told me.  When were they planning on telling me?”

“Uh, let me call the nurse.”

OK,  it went downhill from there.  I ended up going to the back and speaking to the nurse, who was patronizing, and I was angry and – you guessed it- I cried.  (Security! Crazy, emotional woman in room 1!)  I was tearful all the way to my car, for Pete’s sake.  Then, when I sat in my car, I had a little chat with Jesus.

What is going on here?!  I do not understand what is going on with me!  And, by the way, I don’t like it.  Either I reeeeealllly need to Get. A. Grip. or there is something You would like for me to learn from all of this…or both.  I don’t like to cry, for reasons we both know, and I hate medical facilities; again, for reasons we both know.  So, if there is a lesson here to learn, give me eyes to see.  If I need to rely more on Your strength, reveal that, as well.  Be my peace.

I’d like to say that immediate peace and calm flooded throughout my soul and the ride home was like sailing on a placid river with the wind at my back, but then I would be feeding you a load of horse manure.  My faith walk is nitty-gritty; it hasn’t been Pollyanna-ish since I had a rude awakening from my Christian bubble sometime in the late 80’s.  The bright side of this is that when God walks me through the flood and the fire, I know it is Him and not a formula or some guy’s latest idea of who God should be.  I will not be consumed by trials of life (Isa. 43:2).  He has my back.

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thejourneywithme.blog

A lover of Jesus since the age of 10, I am a wife to my beloved Gary, a mom of 3 and grandmother of 6. I'm a former hospital chaplain and licensed marriage and family therapy associate. My favorite therapy is dirt therapy, AKA, perennial flower gardening, and I enjoy a good mystery any time, anywhere. Chronic migraines keep me sidelined more than I like, but ever so gradually I am learning that God’s strength truly is made perfect in weakness.

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