It appears my sorrow has no end. My miscarriage is still raw and fresh in my mind. Last night, a dear friend passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. He was a good, godly man who I respected, an elder in my church, who was also a husband, father and teacher. As I cried thinking of his wife, his three children, his students, Tiger came to me to tell me that he wasn't feeling well. The wound from his surgery has reopened; he is running a fever and I brought him back to the doctor, who tells me it is infected and we probably need surgery again.
I am overcome with grief, with sorrow, with pain. Being a Christian doesn't protect me from hurting. In fact, Psalm 119:28 says, "My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word." Lord, I have never felt so tired in my life. I feel like my heart is breaking every second of the day; every time I turn around, I am faced with more bad news. A friend's mom diagnosed with breast cancer; a person losing their home; a friend of Missy's dying in his sleep, at only 19 years old! Epilepsy, autism, SO MUCH PAIN, and I wonder how many hits I can take. My favorite part of the day is when I go to bed, and when I wake, I fear who is going to tell me the next bad thing. I wonder if I could ever run out of tears, and then I think of my friend's wife who suddenly has no husband to be by her side, and I sob all over again.
When Bucket was little and we were going through the trials of autism, people would tell me how strong I was. And I was smug about it. I was like, "I sure am." And in my own head, I suppose I thought I was better than all those people who "couldn't handle a kid like that." But the truth is, I am not strong at all. I am so very, very weak. I am supposed to find my strength in Him, and I do. But honestly, I want to do things myself. Sometimes that independent streak causes me quite a bit of strife. But Lord, I am listening to you now, and I am trying so very hard to be dependent on You, not me. Thank goodness you are a Daddy who lets me try again and again, because You love me so. I keep going back to that word. Daddy. Just like I wanted my Daddy when Fergus left me, I still feel like a little girl who wants to curl up in the lap of her father to be comforted. Human daddies failed me, but He never has. He never, ever has.