It's been a hard summer. Honestly I have not had much to write, therefore I haven't been blogging. Don't get me wrong - I have thoughts - and many of them - but they are often raw and confused and shifting - and I sometimes wonder if I'm just a little too emotionally tender to make myself vulnerable by sharing my thoughts in their raw-ness.
Other times I just feel so tired that I just can't.
This has been the summer of me being sick and Darla, arguably my dearest friend, being really really sick. And that has been it.
Life goes on of course - Tom goes to work every day, my kids need to be fed and loved and cleaned and played with....but time, for me, has been quite strange - like I am somewhat in a little bubble.
"Is this real"?
I have thought that often.
Anyone who has had bad morning sickness understands that part of it - you feel like you in some ways you've lost yourself - or at least yourself as you knew it - likes have changed, dislikes have greatly increased. Come on, I haven't had any form of coffee in 6 weeks! That must tell you something.
I very rarely feel at all pretty, or desirable, or productive, or good at anything really. Except for carrying a baby. I remind Tom of that often - that there's one job I'm doing well....
although I don't need to remind him.
He is the most gracious, patient, loving man I know.
So that part of my "bubble" can be explained .... with every pregnancy there is the chance that there will be a month, or months, of this, and it is absoloutely worth it.
And I've still spent every day surrounded by Tom, Simeon and Justus, who just can't stop bringing such joy to my life... God has granted me peace in the situation, and I have felt overwhelmed with the blessings poured on us by people who love and support us.
Amazing.
The harder part of this all - the part that makes me think over and over "Is this real?", is Darla. She has been sick for quite a long time now, we've known how sick for well over a month.
And there are still no answers.
I think about her all day, every day.... and I pray... but many times I can't even find words to pray.
"God, please...."
The best times are the times that I get to sit with her in her hospital room. I would much rather be with her than think and think.
A few days ago we decided to reminisce about our camp counselor days in Brasil. We laughed a lot. Talking about now and the unknowns made us cry, that doesn't help either of us. Who wouldn't prefer to remember and laugh?
When someone is on your mind so much, especially in a way that only comes through an unexpected hard time, you always think about them in a different kind of way. Through these weeks there have been "me and Darla" moments that stand out to me more than most.
Last year I gave my testimony - really a not-easy testimony to give - to a group of highschool girls. As the day approached and I prepared and prayed, I felt like I needed someone to sit right next to me who knew me "then" and "now", and there was no better option than Darla. She did.
There was a day when I was such an emotional, sad, confused mess and I went to her house and said, " I just told Tom that I realized that you are the only one that I could even imagine wanting to see today".
I remember when she called Japan to tell me that she was pregnant- and only 10 weeks behind me. Could any news be any better that? When we moved back, she liked to practice holding and soothing Simeon, preparing herself for Elijah. They kicked eachother before Elijah even came out, so she claimed!
There was the night that I had one of the most difficult conversations I remember ever having, and she and Josh were there, and I cried and cried and she loved me.
We have close to 20 years of memories, and although I knew it before, I know it oh so well now that our lives have been so closely intertwined.
Darla is steady, and she's always there. It can seem surreal when what we have come to assume as so "normal" is shaken....
and it's not easy to see her sick. It's really not.
Thinking about the unknowns, really dwelling on them, does us no good. Jesus tells us to not worry about tomorrow, and as I've lived and learned I have dared myself to take that command literally. It's oh so liberating to live there...
We can choose what we think about, where we go with our thoughts.
So it's sometimes a battle, and truth does not always win control of my mind - I have had some days of fear and many tears.
Not worrying doesn't mean that I live in some kind of naive oblivion, believing that everything will turn out just how I would plan.
But it does mean that I choose to trust, to fix my heart on my Jesus.
And I must believe that God is faithful, and that He can be trusted.
I do believe.
Please pray....
