Hurting

I am a little sad right now. Today was one of those days where I felt the harsh reality of my Mother's diagnosis of cancer. I called and talked with her for about thirty minutes today, unleashing my frustrations in life, sharing my questions with her about what I should feel, explaining my insecurities as a mother and so on and so on. As our conversation came to close and I was hearing the exhaustion and sickness in her voice, I started to choke...I started to feel my throat close and that huge grapefruit was returning again to that familiar place right above my larynx. I always try to keep it together on the phone with her, because I know it isn't good for her. I don't think...maybe that's a bad assumption. I tell her over and over and over again how much I love her...I want her to know that, to feel it, to breathe it. I want her to know with out saying, that I cannot imagine my days without her, that I cannot imagine not feeling her confident hand on my back or not hearing her convincing and gentle voice of support. It is easy for me to fall into a pit of fear and despair, but I am immediately reminded that God has not given me the spirit of fear. 2 Timothy 1:7. So where is this fear coming from? Why would it be a more comfortable place in misery or terror? Because hope takes effort. Hope means stepping through, where fear means staying put. And although I know that every movement that I have taken toward Him and away from my own desire, I still think there is safety in stopping. And sometimes there is, but when it is preceded and surrounded by fear, it is stifling.

So I hung up the phone tonight, and I cried. I cried and I cried and I cried! And I called in my husband and I cried some more. And then he listened to me and my fears and my terror and my pain. And I just SAID it, and man, did I feel so much better. Instead of being afraid to cry, I cried. Instead of being terrified of the tears, I let them come. And I FELT. Wow. What a luxury? No, what a natural response to being sad. I think if I would allow myself feelings, they wouldn't come out all crooked and aimed at some innocent bystander.

Thank you, Lord, for my Mom. Thank you for letting me feel. Finally. It is awesome.