Into the darkness...

Usually, when things are difficult for me, you can tell because I'm quiet. In the hard moments of labor, you can often find me closed off in my own little world trying to manage the pain. Similarly, when I'm overwhelmed, or hurting emotionally...I'm just usually....quiet.

I know everyone who is praying appreciates the updates, so I am trying to still do that. But I figure if I'm going to be telling our story for many to read...I need to do it honestly, and kindly.

This week was one of the hardest yet. It was the details, I think....Things not working out, trouble communicating and coordinating care and arrangements, melt downs, late nights...the list goes on and on.  And the details aren't really important in sharing because 1. I don't want to speak ill of anyone involved in Elijah's care because overall, he has the absolute best. Especially when it comes to his doctors and nurses.

2. As I fought through my frustration in all the details...you can't help but come to the conclusion that you are really frustrated because things aren't working out.  It isn't going how you want it to.

It's sort of like entering into the dark tunnels of the Subway for the first time. You don't know what's down there. And some of it is down right scary. It's unknown. You're worried that you might not come out with everyone you went in with. You're not even sure if you're on the right train and heading in the right direction. And even once you're on the train safely, you have to wonder if you've missed your stop, or maybe you made a mistake and got on the entirely wrong train all together.  

So, if I'm honest...I can't help but feel like somehow I made a mistake and got on the wrong train.  It seems so dimly lit that I can't tell which direction I'm heading. There is fear in making sure all *my* people are safe and together, and that we all get off at the same exit.  I'm tired of the bumps and the turns and the stops that make your head and your stomach lurch.  I'm weary.  I want off this crazy cancer ride.

And while I am rejoicing in the good news for Elijah...I have to be honest that it's not entirely all the way good. Although the tumors responded well to the chemo treatment...his vision is at risk no matter what treatment course we take. And although we are headed in a much better direction in regards to tumors and their growth... There is still cancer inside him.

And I know that God is with us and He loves us. I know that He gets to decide what Elijah gets to see and not see. I know that sometimes God allows hard things because those are the things that truly develop character.

But it doesn't mean it isn't hard. 

21Yet this I call to mind

and therefore I have hope:

22Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,

for his compassions never fail.

23They are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

Lamentations 3:21-23

So it turns out that sometimes you just have to go down into the darkness.  Sometimes, it even surprises you. Sometimes it is scary. But so much less scary when your daddy is with you.

Sometimes, you take all seven kids on the subway and meet a lovely older couple who teach Sunday School in Florida and are getting off at the same exit. Sometimes you emerge from the tunnel and find yourself ready for Central Park, walking to Belvedere Castle, having ice cream and lemonade just before it begins to sprinkle, and with kids in awe of a new experience and adventure.

Sometimes it's dark and you have to remind yourself at every stop that it's not your bravery that gives you endurance for the ride. It is because of the Lord's great love, and His compassions that never fail.