The REAL struggle

In the past 36 hours, give or take a few, I've struggled. 

I've struggled with understanding why God would put me, or rather us, through this heartbreaking thing called 'cancer' not one time, not two times, but many different times. 

I've struggled with what this is going to mean for my family in the long run, now that the secondary glue that holds us altogether is getting taken away. Slowly, but surely. 

I've struggled with why now? Why so freaking soon after my Nany passed, so soon after we were getting happier, so soon after everyone was finally finding their own way again... Why? 

And finally, I've struggled with understanding why every time I start to have faith that God is on our side, every time I start to rebuild faith in things, I find myself questioning everything once again. 

WHY? 

But the truth is, I'll never know why. 

Yesterday was opening day for the Atlanta Braves. It was their first time being back at Turner Field since last season and I was STOKED. I waited all winter for this game. I finally got to wear my Freddie Freeman jersey for the first time. But yesterday was also the day we got the worst case scenario news. 

Stage 4 and all lymphnodes testing positive. No chemo or radiation would help. And wait for it... A whopping four months was given. Can you believe it? Four freaking months. I was dumbfounded. Completely and utterly speechless. So I decided to try my best and ignore it. 

Let's just say I made it until about the 7th inning and I couldn't take it anymore. 

I cried at the railing when I walked away from our losing game. When we got home I cried and cried and cried. I cried in the bathtub. I cried when I laid down to sleep until I guess I eventually fell asleep that way because when I woke up this morning my eyes hurt. They burned. They were puffy, red and swollen. 

I haven't cried today but I still haven't accepted the fact that just like when I was 12, I'll be having to go through this heartbreaking time again. And honestly I can't think of another word that would better describe it than heartbreaking. 

But only this time I'm an adult and my faith in God is stronger than when I was 12. Except, I still feel extremely vulnerable to the situation. Ripped from the inside out with confusion. 

Maybe I shouldn't be blogging about this but I had to. I'm sorry for my bluntness to whomever reads this but I've struggled with death my entire life. Funeral after funeral I've had to attend. Family member after family member. Heartache after heartache. And the all time famous question.. Why? 

I don't have an answer but taken from my all time favorite T.V show... 

Albert Camus once wrote "Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken." But I wonder if there's no breaking then there's no healing, and if there's no healing then there's no learning. And if there's no learning then there's no struggle. But struggle is a part of life. So must all hearts be broken?

It's stupid to be taking advice from a T.V show but it's always been the quote I've turned to when I've had that very question... Why are we being put through this? To be stronger, I guess. To show the world we can overcome anything. To show God that we have faith no matter what he throws at us. And so that's how I'm gonna look at it.

I will continue to pray for peace among my family and although it may be selfish, peace for myself. I will continue to pray for understanding for us all. I will continue to pray for strength for my Uncle because he needs it more than us and especially for my little cousin who is only 12, much like myself. I won't lose faith. I won't. 

So although the news hit me like a ball usually hits B.J. Upton: hard and fast, leaving me breatheless and wondering where the ball came from. I'll take it like Chipper Jones and hit back with my strong faith, hope and love. 

Until I type again, 

Psalm 46:1

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.