How am I doing? Since you asked…
I have been struggling with two “truths” lately:
that there is so much to be grateful for, having gone through so many major upheavals in my life and yet somehow always emerging on the other side, stronger, brighter, and better than my best expectations, by God’s incredible grace.
that this earthly life can sometimes feel impossible — certainly, this is my current reality — and that those who have moved on to the afterlife are luckier than me for having been spared one more minute of suffering.
Glass half full or half empty? This is my dilemma.
Certainly, I think this is a common conflict that many Christians experience when faced with adversity.
(And sadly, in spite of previous demonstrations and evidence of God’s faithfulness.)
I have not blogged lately or done much on social media because I have decided to take a mental health break.
More than that, I have been dealing with some issues in my home life and with my family.
Issues that make me feel like a tree being cut down, branch by branch, making me feel exposed and stripped down to my bare trunk and roots.
Where I am left to say, “I’m just… doing (life)” when asked how I am doing. (Because somehow I often feel compelled to be honest in my response.)
Needless to say, I have been overwhelmed by my very specific situation: raising a pre-teen and teenager (with individual issues) and attempting to care for aging (and declining) parents… all by myself.
Because while I am without a partner and co-parent, I am also my mother’s lone child on the continent.
As with parenting my children, much of my recent experiences with my parents are uncharted territory.
Territory that is simultaneously terrifying and upsetting, where the horizon steadily becomes more visible and appears to be approaching almost as quickly as we are marching towards it.
Living my life sometimes feels like an all-day assault on my heart and mind.
And a cruel reminder of my aloneness.
And of my utter reliance on my faith, without which I would be more lost and more overwhelmed.
These days I am missing Mike for the partnership we had. For the invincibility I felt in our togetherness: that we could handle anything together.
Truly, it felt to me like we did.
And I am grateful for the years we had (18, as a married couple) when I had the privilege of walking through life bravely.
But damn it, it sure feels unfair sometimes that Mike does not have to contend with the difficulties I now have to deal with without him.
So yeah. My one-way conversations with him these days have been short:
“Hey, Mike. I love you… and I really miss you. And I really hate life without you.”
I just have no words for the rest of it. Just like this blog entry.
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