My knees quake.
The earth spins.
My heart beats faster and faster, keeping pace with quickly tumbling surroundings.
At the beginning of this summer, I was introduced to the song “Oceans” by Hillsong United, an absolutely beautiful and incredibly powerful song, if you haven’t heard it (and you should, so here’s a link to listen to it: http://youtu.be/dy9nwe9_xzw). As I graduated from Simpson University four months ago, where I have spent the past four years of my life, I looked to the future and the unknown awaiting me. I sought after the Lord, and this song became a prayer of mine as I faced the unknown yet again.
“Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders, let me walk upon the waters wherever you would call me. Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander, where my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Saviour.”
As I prayed, I thought the unknown would be yet another transition phase, much like those I have faced countless times in my life before. I knew this time would be different, as each time is, but I knew that the Lord would both guide me and provide all I needed for the journey and that I would know Him in a new way in this transition.
Little did I know that the Lord used these prayers and time with Him to prepare my heart for the storms that were to come. My world was completely rocked this summer, turned upside down, shaken to its core.
On May 12, my mom was admitted to the hospital, and our family found out that my beautiful mother had breast cancer and a brain tumor, all within the span of two or three days. Our world was changed. Reeling already from recent life changes, I felt a complete loss of control over my life. That month of facing both her hospitalization and then transition back to the UK for treatment was a month of numbly and blindly stumbling through the darkness, grasping for God’s hand as we plunged into deeper waters than any we’d faced before. And then we were in the eye of the storm, waiting, waiting, waiting.
Now, again, we are plunged even deeper, as we find out the brain tumor is more serious than we once thought–her treatment for cancer is postponed, and still, we wait, for answers, for something. I have known so much hurt, so much fear to see and know that the woman I love so dearly, the same woman who held me from birth, who has loved me even at my most unloveable, who gives of herself so selflessly, is now battling against sickness that is attacking her body from the inside out. To see those you love suffering deals one of the deepest blows to the heart.
To talk about praising the Lord in suffering and to actually do it are two very different things. Words come easily, but when you find yourself grasping for the Father’s hand when the darkness seems to surround you, lifting hands in praise seems so hard when the weight of the darkness seems to cloak you in paralysis.
As a family, we have felt hurt, confusion, fear, and fatigue, our very foundations shaken, and yet we have held on tightly to what and who we know is Truth.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9
I have learned that no matter how benign or severe the circumstance, the Lord provides the grace to carry us through.
Each day, whether waiting bleary-eyed and absolutely exhausted in the hospital, or sitting by, feeling powerless to do anything but wait and wait and wait, the Lord’s grace has sustained and carried my family, in each and every moment.
As we wage this battle for my mom’s healing in prayer and surrender our weary hearts to Jesus and the Father’s will, His love and faithfulness wrap us up, and He refreshes us and strengthens us with His grace.
So as our knees quake, and the earth spins, and our hearts beat faster and faster, keeping pace with quickly tumbling surroundings, we rest in His unchanging grace that strengthens each weary heart for the moment, and for this moment, that is all we need.