That Day

June came and went. Sara continues to make wedding preparations. Martha is loving her new job. Jonathan made it back safely from Norway. And I’m still alive, I think. New breathing difficulties emerged along with liver problems. I would love to make it to Sara’s wedding, but most days I just don’t see how I can.

Sara’s wedding is 5 weeks away and I can barely stand up for 5 minutes without needing to sit down. The default position for my many tumors is reclining. That’s the way I sleep. Standing makes the tumors shift around and creates a lot of discomfort and difficulty breathing. Plus, the wedding is over 3 hours away and I haven’t left the house in 4 months. But, we’ll see what happens. I guess it’s OK to hope.

To be honest, I cried a little today. I thought too much about the present - things I can no longer do. I might not be able to attend my daughter’s wedding. I can’t play with the grand-kids like I used to. I still prepare my food, do my laundry, and keep my room clean. But these tasks are becoming increasingly difficult. I dread the day I can no longer take care of myself. I would be grateful if the Lord took me home before that day comes. But that’s in His hands.

Yet, when I look beyond that day, to the day the Lord’s angels lift me heavenward, the excitement remains. For all that awaits me, for all that I will be delivered from, the thought of finally being with the Lord in His Heaven fills me with joy. Despite all my physical discomforts, the Lord has whispered His presence with me and He gives me peace. Whatever happens, whenever it happens, my trust is in the Lord. Now, if that peace can just get me through these next several weeks!