Be still, my soul: thy God doth undertake
To guide the future, as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake
// Be Still My Soul (In You I Rest), Kari Jobe
The pattern is the same. People in scrubs, tubes jutting out of machines into God knows where, ugly curtains spreading a thin sheet of privacy, the monitor beeping faintly, the monotonous television droning on and on, the intercom crackling every now and then.
We talk about everything except for the reason we're here. Then in a moment of silence, he drops it. Heavy. Hard.
The tears burn in the back of my eyes but I don't budge. Instead, I offer a weak smile, broken in so many places. I have run out of words.
No, it won't be the same.
Throughout the week, I have had so much time to sift through my own emotions and thoughts. I have run the range of moods possible in a few short days, feeling the extent of each roller coaster with every tedious tick of the clock and I'll just say it now. As much as I have tried, I am not a strong person. While I attempted to post positive updates for everyone, I felt utterly confused. Mostly though, I was terrified. Pulling myself out of bed has been really hard, because all I've wanted to do since Monday was lie in bed and wake up from this seemingly bad dream.
My mind has been everywhere, unable to focus on any one thing. I miss him praying for me every morning on the way to the train station. I miss our Sunday night ritual of driving to the supermarket to pick up chocolate bars. I miss walking out into the living room and seeing him sitting at the desk. I miss all those tiny things that wouldn't even mean a thing to anybody else but mean the world to me.
But I don't say anything. This is not about me.
I watch in amazement as my mother takes it all in stride--this woman who had not uttered one word of negativity since Monday. She has continuously got up at 6:30 am almost every morning to pack me a lunch and get me to the train station. She still makes dinner every night. She still goes to prayer meetings and Bible studies. She insists on maintaining the normalcy in the house, shooing me away from the dishes in the sink and telling me to go study. She continues to hold the fort down. When she picked me up on Friday, I saw the fatigue in her eyes and the guilt hit me again.
I'm not doing enough. I don't know what I should be doing. God, I don't know what I'm doing.
I sat down at the library to get work done this morning, opened a tab for Youtube and stumbled upon this old song based off from this beautiful verse. That light I mentioned last time? It's still glowing. And its tiny voice whispers through the dark. Steady. Unwavering.
"Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.
The Lord Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress."
(Psalm 46: 10, 11)
My mind has been everywhere, unable to focus on any one thing. I miss him praying for me every morning on the way to the train station. I miss our Sunday night ritual of driving to the supermarket to pick up chocolate bars. I miss walking out into the living room and seeing him sitting at the desk. I miss all those tiny things that wouldn't even mean a thing to anybody else but mean the world to me.
But I don't say anything. This is not about me.
I watch in amazement as my mother takes it all in stride--this woman who had not uttered one word of negativity since Monday. She has continuously got up at 6:30 am almost every morning to pack me a lunch and get me to the train station. She still makes dinner every night. She still goes to prayer meetings and Bible studies. She insists on maintaining the normalcy in the house, shooing me away from the dishes in the sink and telling me to go study. She continues to hold the fort down. When she picked me up on Friday, I saw the fatigue in her eyes and the guilt hit me again.
I'm not doing enough. I don't know what I should be doing. God, I don't know what I'm doing.
I sat down at the library to get work done this morning, opened a tab for Youtube and stumbled upon this old song based off from this beautiful verse. That light I mentioned last time? It's still glowing. And its tiny voice whispers through the dark. Steady. Unwavering.
"Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.
The Lord Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress."
(Psalm 46: 10, 11)
Reminded once again. Still, my soul, be still.
You made me cry again... Remember you said your dad's recovery is promising? It is. After weeks, your dad will feel a lot better than now. I spent a lot of time lying in bed during the past three months and felt like I couldn't ever get back to normal again, but you saw me last Saturday, I got a lot better :) While we are sick in bed, it's very easy to think that things won't be the same, but in God's grace, we'll get healed physically and spiritually. It's the path that God prepare for your dad, so he would be fine eventually. You know I'm your fan, so are your parents ;) If you want to do something for them, obey your parents in the Lord (Ephesians 6:1), do not let them worry about you, that's the best blessing to them, and I believe you have been doing that.
ReplyDeleteCarol, thank you for your words of encouragement! I have been wondering what God has in store for my family and how He is using this whole process to bring glory to Him. Sometimes I think I just need to take a step back and see...
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