Being certain of what we hope for

Today in Church my Pastor mentioned Super Bowl Sunday.

My first thought? I should have some people over. I should cook for them and take care of them and be happy that they are around me.

Then he said the date. February 2, a day that, if everything goes according to plan, I will be in the hospital. Being cared for. No party.

I appreciate the support. Really, truly I do. I know I wouldn't get through a day without it. And I know that God has a plan and he's going to work things out according to his purpose. I believe that with all my heart.

But even with that knowledge in my head and heart... this is hard. It's hard to feel so dependent and weak. It's hard to deal with that fact that I'm going to spend more time in the hospital, to have more days where I can't even drink water or eat any food. It's hard to think about having a tube going out my nose and and iv in my arm and a little purse coming out of my side to hold my intestine juice.

It's hard to do this again.

I left church today because it was too much to handle. I've shed more tears today than I have in months.

I don't want to do this. I don't want to be this. It feels unfair. It feels like God is not being good.

And I feel so silly being open about it. And I feel guilty being open about the parts of this that suck, because it makes me feel weaker and more dependent. But then again, I know it's real, and if it were anyone but myself, I would want them to express these feelings to because they are human.

The doubt is human, the fear is human. The sadness and anger about life not going as planned... it's human. Hiding dark moments doesn't mean they are not there, and we all go through them. I go through them.

I know there's still light. I know that there is an end to this. I know that God is good.

But, despite that knowledge, when I'm honest, I don't feel or see it today. Today felt so very dark.