a saturday morning breakdown

Night sweats distort my perception, and the repeated waking makes the night feel tedious. I'm awake now, with boys needing breakfast, a husband needing peace and I'm unfit for duty with this heart all blurry and water coloured. 

It's a full time job to pretend I'm okay. 

I'm not.

Soul is knocking at my locked bedroom door. I've pleaded with Huz to let me have half an hour to cry and be on my own. Writing calms me, and lets the pain take a shape. It's less elusive than the big bad wolf of fear breathing down my neck. At least on paper I can search my heart and the places I've let fear be the hero instead of my Saviour. 

I need a Saviour.

This volume of pain must be measured beyond what I can manage. What must be tonnes and tonnes of heavy worry surely can't be just for me? 

The hours drag out when my bones ache, and my body just won't cooperate to heal. I count down the hours until I can have a bath as a distraction.

And I should really hit the delete button on this post because it's not masquerading as upbeat, it's just the cry of my heart...help me God for the waters are up to my neck.

My hope is being tested in the firey furnace, and I'm crouched on the sidelines with fingers and toes crossed I will come through.

I can hear one of the boys being put in time out. There's crying and wailing, and 'Dadddddyyyy...I want Mummy', and then it's only a second before this changes to, 'sorry Dad, sorry Dad, sorry'. 

Am I that much different from my boys? 

I would make this pain vanish in a second if I could. It's beyond my capacity. I can't choose the path, but I can choose whose hand I am holding as I walk through. 

And I won't be letting go of the hand of God. 

This I know.

murmuring thanks

I'm murmuring thanks soft. 

it's barely audible. 

Mustering up a gladness in my weary bones has been left to the side for the last few weeks, but it's my soul that's going bankrupt in the absence of the thanks. It's revolutionised me before this giving thanks in the mini blessings, the unseen music that I hear playing in the background of doctors visits, desperate prayers to be well, tears that I let sneak down my face when it's just me in the bathroom. Because it's not all sad. It's deep too.

When I swallow the thanks that sparks small and soft I am left empty. Because there's always thanks to be murmured to my Jesus. He sustains me when my soul is heartbroken and I don't know I can wake up and do another day. He is watering the garden in my soul, inhabiting my heart.

Yesterday I woke to terror. The terror of the night where fears roam free and take over, gaining ground and size. Too big for me to reign in, too big to wrestle. Huz held me close, spoke truth to me. It was still early, but True and Brave came in, wrapping little bare arms and legs around me on each side, snuggling as close as possible and showering kisses on my cheeks. 

And my God who sees it all gave this gift just when I was at my lowest. His mercies are new every morning. And I murmured thanks soft because I couldn't help it. And then I remembered how long it has been since I have thanked Him for anything. 

He hasn't stopped giving gifts, both the hard and the welcome ones.

Mothering is at once the hardest and the holiest and the happiest 
(Ann Voscamp One Thousand Gifts)

I never knew being a mother would revolutionise me, break me so I could be mended and see everything entirely differently. God's greatest gift to me in so very many ways. How could I have known? And it's taken me years to get comfortable in it, years to warm up, see how my selfishness needed to be broken into a thousand pieces by ways of little hands and hearts needing all of me when I have longed for silence, peace, less housework.

Jesus you knew what I needed so much better than me. I have been sanctified in so many ways through motherhood. What a gift.

And so this begins my list. My little list of thanks.

aunty A has to go home

Aunty A has to go home this evening. All the way to Turkey, and I'm not ready to say goodbye. It's been such a treat to have her here. She has taken over caring for all of us and I will desperately miss her. 

I've battled today with what I am looking forward to at the moment. Chemo definitely doesn't count. Actually nor does any trip to Tennyson. These appointments are pretty much all that is in my diary. I'm thinking I really need to plan something lovely for this week off! 

My mini miracle has come. The miracle of having an extra portion of energy. I swear my red blood count has upped or at least stayed at the point it was after the extra blood on wednesday. Of course I won't know until I get bloods done on tue, but I am certain it has to be better. This time last week I had my head on the pillow pretty much 24/7 and today I've been sitting up lots, and my mind even feels like it can make a decision or two if push came to shove! An improvement that's for certain.

The best part of an extra shot of energy was feeling good enough to go out with Aunty A for lunch yesterday. We kept it pretty short and easy and just went to one of my favourite spots along the beach just near Glenelg at the Broadway Cafe. 

I can't even put into words how amazing it was to have my beautiful sis with me and have her all to myself to just chat and be with each other. She is such a significant support to me and a huge encouragement as she has been fully journeying alongside us since I was first diagnosed. I am more than blessed. Having two sisters by my side means I never have to feel alone as I process it all. She's leaving tonight, and will drop in this afternoon to say goodbye. Will be very difficult to say goodbye. I've got the Kleenex ready.

Feeling like a lost ship at sea.