No, this isn't a post about my fundraising. (Although I will shamelessly plug it…feel free to click on the Support Me button on the left if you feel led to partner with me in raising the necessary funds!)
This is a post about the emotional cost of leaving my life behind.
To put it simply, it's been a rough couple weeks. One of my Y kids, who is so, so precious to me, is nearing the end of his life. He has an agressive brain tumor and he has regressed very quickly of late. I went to see him today and it was heartbreaking. I sat on the bed and just stroked his hand, his arm, and his leg, praying for him the whole time. He is so out of it. He had a few moments of lucidity, but most of the time he just stared ahead, struggling to breathe with fluid in his lungs. I sat with his grandma and his parents and just watched him. And prayed. And cried. When I left, I kissed him and told him over and over that I loved him so much, a part of me knowing that this would most likely be the last time I saw him this side of heaven. Oh, my heart hurts so much tonight.
Also this past week, I found out the father of my best friend from childhood was diagnosed with colon cancer. He had surgery to remove his appendix and his right colon, and seems to be recovering okay, but a lot is still unkown about his prognosis.
My mom is having surgery on Friday. A spinal fusion. Her surgeons are excellent, and have done this surgery quite a few times before, but it is still worrying to have your mother go under the knife again. But we're praying that she wakes up with relief from her excruciating back pain and can get back to her normal life!
At the Y, I volunteer with a high school service club. One of the high school members just lost her mother suddenly. I cannot even imagine the pain that family is going through. To lose your mom at any time is hard, but to lose her when you're still navigating your way towards adulthood is devastating.
And one of my dogsitting clients, Diesel, was put to sleep last week. He had cancer and his owner decided he was in too much pain to have good quality of life. I will miss that goofy dog. Plus my great aunt put her cat to sleep as well, which was sad. Even though these are "just animals," I feel for their owners, because having a precious furry companion makes life sweeter sometimes. And it's hard to have to go through the day-to-day without them.
All of this pain, this sadness, in my life is getting me really down. I'm the type of person who wants to be in the thick of things during a crisis. It's hard for me just to sit back and not be able to do anything except pray. I want to be useful, to help and serve. But I've been realizing that praying is one of the most important things I could do. God can and does use me to serve and take care of the practical things during a crisis, but sometimes (most times!) He wants me to be still and trust in Him. Because ultimately, He is the giver of life and health, and I cannot do anything outside of His will. And that's hard sometimes. Especially when I realize that I will be gone for 11 months straight. It's so easy to worry about what might happen to people and to fret about not being here during a crisis. Because, let's face it, there will be at least one crisis while I'm gone. And I will be halfway across the world, with no other option but to pray. And slowly, painfully, I'm learning that's all God wants from me anyway. To cast every burden on Him, for He cares for us. I'm clinging to that tonight.
