I have some raw feelings at the moment and I’m going to share them, not because I really want you all to see me in this vulnerable and weak state, or because I want pity. I’m letting you in because it’s the reality of the situation. It’s the aftermath of what we’ve been through and it’s real. Our situation is much simpler than so many others; we are not trying to compare. We can’t compare. But this is our life right now. This is what we are personally wading through. This is our journey, and right now, it feels hard.
You know – the health issues with our daughter have consumed our lives (and your news feed if you’ve been following along with us) for the past 3 months.
I look at that sweet little face, with her black eye because the blood thinners are causing her to bruise easily, and I’m so thankful that she’s okay.
I’m so thankful that life is getting back to normal.
But I’m also angry.
All of the “after” stuff is ramping up. The medical bills are coming; the nurmeous test results are trickling in to the online platform, and daily, all of it is thrown in our face.
Honestly – I’m not worried about the expenses. Not even a little bit. The bills will get paid.
We would pay the full bill an infinite amount of times to help our child.
What’s bothering me is, the larger the total gets, the more reality settles in my heart. The more astronomical the bill becomes, the more the seriousness of what we’ve been through smacks me in the face. I just can’t get away from it.
I wish this wasn’t our reality.
I’m angry that this is part of her medical history.
I’m angry that, to the billing department, my daughter’s trial is a source of income.
I’m angry that she has to be on medication for an extra month because I can’t get an appointment before then.
I’m angry that I have a constant fear of more complications in the back of my head.
The hurt doesn’t end when the trial ends.
The fears don’t end when the trial ends.
The haunting images don’t go away when the trial ends.
The PAPER only BEGINS when the trial ends.
As I sit here on my couch, wallowing in the negative, will I choose to stay here?
Although tempting, I will not.
Digging roots into all of this completely detracts from the little miracle who is at school today. It takes away from the beauty of her health. It detracts from her “story.” It robs us (you included) of the blessing and gift we were given from the people who have prayed and walked alongside us with love and support. It causes us to ignore the fire that God walked us safely though.
I will not mentally stay in this place today.
We will have days that are hard, but we don’t have to cling to them.
We have the choice to focus on the beauty that can be found in every. single. situation.
So, now that I’ve vented to you – and even more intensely to those closest to me – I move on.
What heaviness is on your heart today? Can you choose to move on with me? Can you choose to dwell on the beauty? Find the silver lining?
We can always choose to focus on a half empty glass, but focusing on the half full will always result in overflow.