This past week we were blessed with the help of my sweet mother-in-law and my sister. I have never been so physically out of commission in my life, so the help was 100% necessary. It was humbling and difficult to accept the help that they so happily and freely gave.
Now they've headed home, and real life is demanding that I return to it. I feel the weight and pressure of schedule and routine pressing down on me. In a way, it's terrifying, suddenly being thrust back into life as it was before.
Before it all fell apart.
At the same time, it's good to start to act like life is normal. I'll go through the motions, I'll cook and clean, educate and soothe, fold laundry, wash dishes, chase goats and children, and act like everything is okay.
Because in so many ways, it IS okay. I'm here, slowly returning physically to where I was (feeling 50% is a victory!), we are so abundantly blessed that I can't even list the gifts we've been given. My children are healthy, vibrant, demanding, inquisitive, smart and stinky, and I love them with everything I have. Derek is here for me, and we're here for each other, and we're going to just keep on going.
In the ways that it isn't okay, how my body is still healing and makes me so mad to be limited, in the way that my heart aches, and my lungs won't draw deep breaths, in the tears that fall at the slightest provocation, in the way I miss George so much that I think my heart might actually be bleeding and my soul is longing for my baby, I'll just have to accept, embrace and allow, because resistance is useless. There is no way out of this.
I am trusting in my Father that through the Savior, when it seems to overcome me, that I'll be made stronger than myself. Every time I start to despair, I just pray, pray that God will be with me. At one point last week, I was in bed, thinking I might die, and just prayed that Jesus would come and sit with me for a while. And He did. He will. He does.
Christ knows how I feel because He felt it. He felt it, and begged God to let the cup pass from Him, but also accepted it so miraculously that I can ask Him for comfort. Through His perfect and complete knowledge of my pain, comfort comes in warmth and love and a numbing feeling of "You can do this because I'm here" so strong that I can not doubt.
No, this cup will not pass, it can not, but I am never alone.
And I'll just have to hold on to that.