A sister's heart

I've been struggling these past few days.
Feeling on the verge of sick.
But each time I've felt discouraged that way, 
my thoughts immediately jump to my sister. 
(As if thinking of her ever really stopped.)

I imagine her chemo days that will soon start, 
and I wonder how her lovely body will respond. 
How all the coming procedures will treat my precious sister- body, mind, spirit.
And the tears are there again. Again.

This morning, I was sitting at our desk, still in my pajamas, tears streaming down my cheeks. 
Scrolling through (a choice, for better or worse) the late Kara Tippett's beautiful blog entry titles on "www.mundanefaithfulness.com" 
Yes, just the titles written by this incredible woman (who fought cancer and ultimately passed away a few months ago) of her entries and emotional photographs. Only a few minutes of looking at the words and heartbreak of this blog and I had to shut down the screen. 

Couldn't stop crying.

And then I realized my boys were chatting away while playing Legos at the dining room table, my back to them, not 2 feet away. 
And, as quick as lightning, I became inwardly angry. 
Angry at this lingering sadness, 
and (unjustly) angry that those children of mine didn't seem to have the slightest care that their own momma was nearby and so upset.

And then, as I (unfairly) thought those boys had no hearts (emotional days, yes?!), the middle son asked why I was sad. 
When I told them "I'm sad because my sister, your Aunt Mary, is sick and I'm afraid. Well, I don't know if afraid is the right word. I'm just really sad."
Luke tilted his head and shrugged, "But she'll get better soon?"
"I don't know, bud. We'll see." Crying still.
Zachary looked straight on at me, "But what are you afraid about?"

A few moments later, as I was still pondering his question, Zachary spoke up again,
"There's kind of 2 ways. 
You have to choose one way. 
The #1 way is you could forget about the whole thing and just go on. 
The #2 way is you won't go far from thinking about it, today and the next day and the next day. You're right there now- kinda sad."

Seriously?

This is my 7 year old son who seldom talks of the heart level or seems to pick up on emotional cues. This boy, who just shared these thoughts with his momma (who had to immediately write down his precious words, since my memory is terrible!), and softened my mean-momma spirit a bit. (I admit, my moods with my own children have been as volatile as anything these past few days.)

And the reality of what he said is absolutely true. 
#1 way- trying to forget about it. (Not really possible right now, but I could see the appeal for some situations, right?) 
#2 way- not being able to stop focusing on my sister, or the imagination of what's to come, whether in the forefront of my mind or quietly dwelling in the midst of all moments of the day.

I'll be honest here again: 
I have been carrying around my green leather journal and Bible with me almost everywhere I go in the house. Having it nearby. But, I haven't had the ability to actually open up either. They stay closed and just sit next to me. 
Not sure what's up with that, but I guess I know this dullness isn't forever. I may even have fallen asleep holding my closed leather devotional book in my hand, but sometime soon it will be opened again. 
Just blinking back enough tears that I suppose I can just trust that God's carrying me through, as confused and sloppy as I've been, trudging through these days.

I feel like, right now, just about all I have the heart for is talking about my sister. (And of course, crying just because someone shared a kind smile!) 

So many friends of mine and friends of my family are praying and burdened for my sister and each of us as we process this still-new-news. And how grateful am I! 

When all I can seem to do is think. And think. 

And talk about it. 

And want to trust God, while the heartache has been so real, almost physically hurting. 

My 40 year old sister, married with 4 young children. 

No breast cancer in our genetics. 

Bam! 

And so I just keep thinking. And sometime (soon, I hope) I can go back to reading the verses about God's care and promises. For now, those beliefs are in my soul, deep. It's just hard taking that step to go back to normal daily life before this journey began for my precious sister and her family.

And I've got to tell you, my big sister ROCKS. She has got a team of support around her a mile long each direction, and each one of us walking alongside this with her is going to be absolutely blessed by her beautiful trust in God's purposes. In the high and low moments, sis, we're all going to keep praying you through. (High five, sis.)

And so, for today, these words from a video on Kara Tippett's blog keep bringing me back out of the foggy thinking and shake me into remembering to look out the window:

"I have today, 
and in this today, 
I get to live well."
(Kara Tippetts)

Tomorrow will be different, somehow. 
Grace enough for one day at a time.

Blessings,
Elizabeth