29 July 2015

Trusting aint for Sissies




God and I have always had an issue with the concept of trust.
I am not secure that His plans are better than mine.
The latest turn of events have pretty much made my case.

Russ and I have plans. We have amazing, long-held plans that were about to be executed in June. We have worked towards this goal for many years. We were waiting for Levi to be 9.  We are poised; the kids all happily home-schooled. Russ with plenty of contract work available overseas. Many other little things all PERFECTLY lined up for our PERFECT plan to work/travel for 2 years abroad and show our kids the world.

And then everything in our world just went bat-shit crazy.

What kind of a God thinks this plan is superior to ours?
Particularly a God that claims to love us and to be able to FIX stuff like this in a heartbeat?
Bloody hell, it's a bitter pill to swallow.

I have 30 years of history with Jesus. I know that even as I type this He is still in control.
I know that I can trust Him. I know that even though I am so angry, sad, heartbroken, disappointed and utterly devastated that one day this will make sense. That our time here is just a nanosecond in the face of eternity

 but

I have kids who do not have the security of a long history with Christ. I have kids who are looking to me; watching me and taking their lead from my behaviour in this situation. (which has been a bit all over the place)

I have had to try to communicate to the kids that our faith is in God. Our faith is not only in His ability to heal. Our faith has to be in the God that can heal but perhaps, for reasons we cannot grasp, will not heal Russell.

How can I impart this to my children when I am still wrestling with it myself?

All I know is that we have today.

I have to take the opportunities as they arise and trust for the right words at the right time.

25 July 2015

Chased by Grace?

Chased by grace. That phrase found me early in this messy journey.

Frankly the last few weeks have felt utterly graceless. I have felt abandoned, betrayed and pissed off but that will have to be a story for another day.

Instead I will write about today.

Russell is pretty much bedridden, although, with some help, he can do the basics. He sleeps most of the day. Apart from that he chills in bed and occasionally parks off in a chair in our room. We chat when he is up to it. We don't stare longingly into each others eyes, sobbing over our situation. We tend to shoot the breeze and we laugh over dumb things. He doesn't read or watch tv. Going downstairs is a chore and it's way too noisy and chaotic.

I share this randomness with you so you can understand the following conversation I had with him today. (bear in mind I haven't been anywhere with my kids in weeks)

Me: Babe, I am going to take the kids out to lunch okay? My mom is here if you need her.
 
Him : Wait! Let me come with you.
 
Me: (raised eyebrow) Dude. Seriously? If you can make it up and dressed I can take you along for sure....But seriously?
 
Him: Huh? You mean I cant come?
 
Me: Babe! You are too weak, I cant possibly take you to the mall!
 
Him : (with a lopsided grin) Well, that's a bit disastrous isn't it!?

And then he dropped off back to sleep.

This is a true story. And there are quite a few more stories like this that many members of my family can attest to. I could be alarmed, disturbed and a bit freaked out but I have chosen to look at these exchanges and see a real blessing in them.

1. Russell is not experiencing any pain whatsoever.
2. Even though his condition is worsening in terms of weakness and lucidity he is completely upbeat and amusing when he is lucid. He speaks of the future and is seemingly unaware of the gravity of the situation.

A few weeks back, while he was in hospital having a transfusion, we cleared the decks. We spoke of our lives together, our mistakes and our hopes.

We spoke of our kids; we said all we needed to say. We did it in a time of strength; when it was easy and eternity wasn't knocking too hard. I am forever grateful for that day. I do not need to say anything more. He does not need to say anything more.



Sometimes grace displays itself in the most unlikely ways.

Seeing my husband gently slip away pain-free and positive is grace personified.