Frozen. And the words just won’t come. That’s where we seem to be. There is more “lost in thought” kind of quiet then there are words.
The summer has moved quickly. Kids home and busy. Needing to go here and there. Vacations. Bible school. Camp. Mission trip. More camp. And my mom has been sick for a few weeks.
She saw her doctor on Tuesday. They did some blood work and sent her for a CT Scan. She has been tired, dizzy and run a low-grade fever on and off for several days at this point, and having digestive issues.
Wednesday morning I got a call from my sister that the doctor’s office was trying to reach mom. I figured she was still sleeping and asked Mark to go by the house on his way to work.
He did, and she talked to the doctor’s office. They said that the CT scan showed a “malignant tumor” in her colon, 3 spots on her liver and some possible abnormalities in the lymph nodes in her chest and abdomen.
I’ve talked before about how those least expected sucker punches life throws always seem to sting the most. How it always seems to happen when you finally get back to the point that you are good. It’s not the old good that you used to be, but you finally, after what may have been years, are seeing light at the end of the tunnel. And Bam!
Punched in the gut. Trying not to fall to our knees. Gasping for air.
Her doctor’s office found an oncologist for her to see. Their appointment desk called Thursday afternoon and said they have her scheduled for the 28th…we can’t sit here, frozen, until the 28th. Mom told the lady that she thought it was a bit urgent and asked for a sooner date. After a phone call from the doctor as well, they fit her in on the 11th.
So now we wait till Monday. Our minds swirling. Hopefully for the best, frozen in fear of the worst. Catching ourselves holding our breath. Trying to remember to pray. But even then, it’s hard to find the words.
I was at the grocery store with mom earlier and she asked how I was. No words. She said, “You have to talk.”
I asked how she was. She said she is ok with a battle, but she can’t prepare herself for a “there is really nothing we can do.” No words. I had not even thought of that as a possibility.
And we wait. Sometimes in quiet. Just in the presence of each other, because there are no words that could adequately express our love for each other.
There are no words that can describe our fears of what the next few months could hold.
And there are no words that could possibly verbalize our tremendous faith in God, and that He is absolutely in control during this storm. That this was not a surprise to Him. He hears our heart when we don’t have words. He knows our every thought and fear, and He will see us through this.