Every Single Time

There are so many different situations caregivers deal with. I think there are entirely different dynamics between taking care of a child and caring for a parent. There's also different emotional packages for those who care for adult children who have become injured or ill, and caring for a child who was born with a condition. Even though each of these are caregiving roles, there's no way to compare them as they are each unique even if there are some similarities.

It's a whole different set of emotions dealing with my son's situation and  dealing emotionally with my mom's slow decline. I'm not specifically a caregiver for her, but she stays with me from time to time and I try to help out when I can. But I kinda got my hands full here. And that's a whole other set of emotions - feeling like I can't provide for my parents as much as I'd like to because I'm already a caregiver.

These are thoughts that are going through my mind this morning as I am working through some of my emotional pain. It may be the only constant in caregiving. And boy is it constant. This weekend has been one of lots of memories. It started with a simple post about the poisonous snakes in Oklahoma. A specific memory of a hike Chris and I took together surfaced. It was a funny memory of a hike cut short due to a snake. I laughed. I cussed. I cried.

Memories can be my best friend, or my worst enemy. I'm glad I have them. But they can cause so much pain. I think I'm making progress whatever that might look like because as memories came up this weekend and pain rose to the top, I didn't get quite as angry with God. It's kind of funny actually. The pain comes up and I don't know anything to do with it but to run to Him. I stand there with a broken heart asking all my why questions to which there are no answers. None that would suffice anyway.

There's this rush of emotions - I'm bringing my pain to Him, but then I'm mad at Him. But I'm bringing my aching soul anyway. Because I don't know of a better place to take it but to the One who can heal. That makes me angry again for a second or two. I think because He is the ONLY one who could do something. But He didn't.

But here I am before Him once again with my broken heart asking Him to soothe, comfort and heal. He never rolls His eyes and says, you again?  He never tells me I can't "come in" because I'm partly mad at Him still. He never turns me away. He doesn't tell me I'm too much to handle or I've run out of tickets to see Him. He doesn't get tired of me. Instead , in my mind He welcomes me,  brushes me off, straightens my clothes and smooths them out, pushes my hair out of my eyes and tells me He loves me. I'm welcome there. Every.Single.Time.

He doesn't get tired of me running to Him with the constant pain and grief from caregiving. Instead He somehow brings comfort and then pours His strength in me. I have lots of scriptures running through my head right now but the most prominent is a familiar one from Isaiah 40. It says this:

O Israel, how can you say the Lord doesn't see your troubles?

How can you say God refuses to hear your case?

Have you not heard or understood?

Don't you know that the Lord is the everlasting God,

the Creator of all the earth?

He never grows faint or weary.

No one can measure the depths of His understanding.

He gives power to those who are tired and worn out;

He offers strength to the weak.

And that's where I stand up and identify. Hey - I'm in the Bible - that's me!! I'm tired, worn out and weak. But He give me power, and offers me strength. 

Today I will be thankful that He is always there for me and never turns me away. I'll meditate on how He shares His strength with me when I have none left of my own. My thoughts will be on that spot where I feel I am standing before Him broken and alone...and He's not afraid to touch me. I'll be thankful that He meets me with His strength every single time. And I'll trust Him for one more day - will you join me?