There is so much inside my head I want to say but I'm having a ridiculously hard time getting my thoughts through my fingers and onto my screen. It's the same feeling I get when I come home and there is just so much to do that I can't focus on any one thing, so I don't do any of them. It's so hard to isolate that thing that is so important it should be first, when everything seems so equally important.
I'm still at peace. I'd wondered if that would wear off, like God's grace is some thin varnish that disappears as it weathers in the rain. But one month in, I still feel peace. I've never really felt peace about anything, ever, so I know this is a Gift.
My friends and family have yet to find peace. So caught up in he unfairness of it all, no one understands "But why her? But why them?" If I try to math it, and I don't math, I see the sheer ridiculousness of it.
Seriously, some math junkie do some research. Twin labor at 21 weeks. Twin A at 22 weeks. 12 day delivery separation. 23 week twin B survives. Third child with autism. Mom gets 0.5/million cancer.
It is more likely that I get bitten by a shark in my Tennessee backyard than it is that the above scenario would happen. It doesn't math. It doesn't make sense.
Maybe that's why I have so much faith? Because with math that bad, God has to have His hand in this.
I've spent a LOT of time in the hospital the past few weeks, and I did manage to squeak out two meltdowns in a row while hospitalized last week. Neither were over cancer. Cancer isn't what's scary here. It's the loss of control. It's the red tape and bullshit and fear of not knowing how details will work out. Insurance details and practical crap; those are the things that get you. My minister came up on my birthday (Happy Birthday to Me!) and reminded me of some very important things I needed to remember, the gist of which is a reminder from God that, "Hey, I got this."
He does. He does got this. His fingerprints are all over it, even the practical details. Sometimes I just need that reminder. If I could just talk Him into picking up my mail and mopping, there really wouldn't be much else for me to worry about.
I still struggle with prayer. What the last seven years of my life have taught me is that I most definitely know what I want, but I most definitely don't know what I need. When I look back at these past few years, very few of my prayers were answered, not in the "Hey I rubbed the lamp, now grant me my three wishes" way that I prayed. Oh, how I prayed for twins! For healthy, perfect twins! And twins I got; one dead, one very much not healthy. Oh how I prayed for Dax to be HEALED. No lasting imperfections. No abnormalities. Oh how I prayed for Tyler to be NORMAL. No special needs. No special requirements. Oh how I prayed for my marriage to be EASY. All these holes I wanted filled. All these miracles I wanted. All these demands to be met. Not one effing one of them happened. Come on God, where the hell are You?
Ahhh, but in hindsight. Every. Single. Trauma. has brought me to today. Every. Single. "Unanswered." Prayer. has built the foundation on which I stand so firmly at this very moment. I can practically see God moving the paintbrush now and how perfectly everything has come together to make it all make sense. And, on my end, it does make sense, even if it's in a nonsensical way. I get it, God. I see it now. You've got some really jacked up ways of getting shit done, but You get shit done.
So, with this new diagnosis, I've struggled with what I'm supposed to say to God. Thank you? Yeah, I'm not there yet. No one's like, "Dude, cancer's my fave!" But I can't bring myself to ask for healing, either. Looking back at the past, I see so clearly now that every good thing I love in life has come from some very bad thing. I want healing, obviously. Please, don't stop praying for healing! But, I find I just look up, raise my hands, and say things like, "Whatever, God. I know you're there. You know I'm here. I know You know what You're doing. Help me not mess it up." They probably won't quote me on that one in the Brand Spanking New Testament, if it ever comes out, but it's honest, and it's all I got right now. I'm pretty sure He gets it. And, I'm pretty sure something good will come out of this. I just don't know what exactly that's supposed to be yet.
But for now, it's peace. And nausea. And hair loss. And appointments. And naps. And chemo. And meds.
But, peace.
