the joker

you know, if my theology were any ricketier, i would say that yesterday's "warm and loved and remembered" hug from the Eternal was just the preamble to a 'bait and switch' joke.

i would be remiss not to blog today after yesterday's "Thanks Jesus! You ROCK!" post, given how the rest of the night unfolded.

because i know, in my heart somewhere if not always right in the front of my mind, that Jesus is good all the time not just when i'm getting funny non-coincidental hugs. so to remember the loved and remembered and cared for on a day when the Warring in my heart wants to scream "THANKS FOR NOTHING!!" is a needful thing. i don't think my sentences are even making sense anymore. let's back up.

i don't really want to scream 'thanks for nothing'. i don't. sometimes i think it would be easier if i did want to scream that. anger is easier than trust and waiting. anger and is a hellofalot easier than clinging in hope. its easier than admitting to myself or to anyone else that i'm sort of actually OK with this so far. that actually feels weirder and uglier to me. 'calm' feels both foreign and traitorous...

i called mom last night. i asked her how she was doing and she just said "ok", which in momspeak is "not really ok". why just "ok"? because she had another PET scan and it showed that the cancer has been growing aggressively and extensively all over her body during the two month chemo hiatus while her infection healed. in just two months, it has spread to pretty much every system and has shown up in her leg bones. which, she is somewhat relieved to know, is probably what's causing all her leg pain.

so there she sits, in pain, with no hope of any actual recovery. they do think that chemo will still keep the tumors from spreading, but that means she'll be on chemo for the rest of her life with no more breaks. in pain, nauseous, exhausted. i asked her last night whether she wanted to keep going with it, and she said 'i'm not ready to give up yet. but maybe in a little while.' she says that as long as she's still able to go to work and have a 'relatively normal life', she'll keep at it. ok mom. whatever you say.

i know that death is part of life. i have zero question that my mom will ultimately be healed and made new, and she'll be with dad (also healed and made new! how cool is that, really?) sooner rather than later. the self pity creeps in when i think about what that means for my life, my plans, my dreams, my security, my ability to hold tight to 'God is so good'. i'm tired of lying awake at night crying into my pillow practicing eulogies. i'm just tired all the time. period.

verdict: Jesus isn't trying to bait and switch me. he DOES love me, remembers me, cares for me. and mom. and she knows it, somehow, even in pain and despair. if she can know it with a cool certainty of hope beyond health, beyond doctors or ease or plans or puking or chemo or baldness, then what the hell is my problem?