My precious dad died a week ago today, on what would have been his parents' 91st wedding anniversary. I am still emotionally raw from losing him, and have so much to write about him, but it will need to wait. My head is not clear enough right now to write.
I have hit my low point in this radiation treatment, and the next 7 days, I am told, will be the worst. The side effects are wretched, and have me at 98 pounds, with little food or drink going down. Today they had to give me an IV after treatment...I was so weak. They will give me IV's for the next two days. They will order more IV's here over the weekend if needed. The effects of the treatment are cumulative and even though I only have 2 left, I am told I will need to walk through another week of this low.
I am on the sofa most of the day, listening to music, trying to take sips and tiny bites of food every hour, thinking about Dad, longing for his arms to hug me just one more time, reading my Bible. It feels like a place of brokenness, but in some ways it has been sacred. Jesus is my only refuge right now. Only God can bring me forth to full restoration of my body. And my soul.
I will not let this miserable chapter convince me that God does not intend to heal me. My faith has been weak some days, but it is there, shrouded with the truths that Scripture shows me.
A passage in the book of Joel tells me that God will "redeem the years that the locusts have stolen."
And so He will.