I'll be totally honest, today hasn't been great. in fact, the last 2 weeks have been some of the hardest of my life. the days feel like they're 10 years long and at the same time they all blur together and I'm never sure what day it is.
But I'm getting through them.
not out of them... through them.
I remember a few years ago I got hooked on this thought of "through" and the scriptural examples of god leading his people through red seas, through wildernesses, through dark nights, through unknowns, through impossible tasks, through weakness, through grief, through upset, through loss, through anxiety.
what are the words again? in & through Jesus Christ? My mind is foggy but my heart has never been more on fire. Quite literally, my chest and heart are raging in a storm of grief and fighting for hope beyond reasonability.
Because, I hoped. I hoped so big and with so much of myself that when my brother died I was shocked (I still am I think), even after I'd said goodbye and thought I'd made peace with reality. Because there was a apart of me that believed God would get him out of cancer. Get us all out of his loss. Get us out of this pain, this future without him physically here in it with us.
Even still today 2 months after jakes passing I'm still wondering when God will show me the way out. I find myself on all fours gasping for breath begging for a way out.
Today as I went through the motions, another therapy session, more medication, more keeping small people alive while barely able to sustain my own needs.. I heard a small whisper....
"there is no way out, but there is a way through... with Me, there is a way through with more smiles than tears, more joy than suffering, more connection that isolation. with me, we will go through this tunnel, no matter how long it may seem, there IS light here and there and everywhere we are together."
I am an impatient woman.
but I am an woman of great faith. unreasonable faith. faith against the odds. My hope feels dashed into a million unrecognizable pieces that I don't have the capacity to even begin to reassemble, but my faith in Jesus remains the bedrock of my rock bottom.
one breath at a time.
one hour at a time.
I will not surrender to the dark, I will not allow this grief to steal whatever small glimmer of light or faith or Jesus that I can find.
No matter what you're walking through today, you aren't alone. There may not be a way out, but there IS a way through... keep holding on. keep getting through each day. let go of what needs to be let of go and start doing what will bring you closer to Jesus, closer to light, closer to feeling alive and strong and stable.
ask for help when you need it. lean on others for support. write in your journal. walk outside. turn off social media. open a book. pray like you need Jesus more than you need air.
he will be there.
he is already is.
you are loved.