fill their cups

I caught myself out.

Just realised what I've been doing. All of that sneaky loving on my boys. My heart aching to see them last night when they slept over with cousins. The need to hold Brave's hand in the car after I hadn't seen him for 24 hours. The counting down till I see True when I pick him up in an hour.

So, why is it so hard to stop kissing my boys, studying the intricate details of their faces more intently, and squeezing just a bit too tightly when we cuddle? Is it possible to maybe fill their hearts to the brim with my mummy love so that when I'm no longer here they will still know, still be tangibly in my love anyway? Can you do that? Like preparing in advance? A cup of love filled to the brim.

I've been trying.

And going grocery shopping today reminded me again how fatigued I get walking that trolley around Pasadena Foodland, and how I came close to leaving my trolley full of groceries in the line to find a seat to sit on when I started to feel weak. It reminded me that I'm not well. That I'm not healthy. That I need to squeeze tight and kiss too much and tickle these boys of mine everyday.

And it exposes my lack of faith that without me their lives will be full of the goodness of God, His presence, His guidance, and his biggest of all love. This big love that has wooed me all of my life. And He will woo them, and He can do this without me in their lives, and even just writing that makes me mad, because what could be better for my four boys than to have this mummy, this wife here-in the flesh here-to do what I love: do life together. 

And I can't even weigh up how it is better for me not to be here, for them to process the loss of a mother when this story I've been handed is too big even for me to walk out, much less my little men. And their hearts are so very young, so very tender. A good friend told me recently that God is very gentle with our hearts. It comforted me to hear that, and I have been praying that somehow these incredible boys of mine would see me walk this ugly thing out holding the hand of Jesus and seeing it is well with my soul. That my God is good, that He is to be trusted, that He will never ever leave me or forsake me, and that His heart is for them. All out, 100% for them.

And there's a desperation to wanting to stay with my Huz. I feel that desperation today. And it's so yuck that I'm the one going, and all that's being asked of him feels so very huge, and it comforts me that he will be here to raise the boys because he is an incredible father and the best, the very best man to love them, but it's awful that we won't get to do it together. Actually it's kind of unimaginable. We make such a great team. I almost don't know myself when I think about who I am without him. We are one entity in many ways…I can't process this leaving when it feels like leaving half of myself behind.

So the struggle to live this out is wearing. I'm weary from laying on my couch day after day. I'm weary from my mind constantly ticking over. I'm weary from the sadness that I've had to make room for in my spirit. It's demanded such a lot of room in my heart and life and the processing of this cancer, this not being healthy, this unable to grocery shop/drive/look after my kids alone kind of change is weary. I'm weary from what feels like being cut off from the people I love and the life I love to live.

But despite these things, it is well with my soul. It is well with my soul. I've got this on repeat as my broken heart is trying to fix eyes on Jesus. It is well with my soul.