...I lament

AUGUST 10/14

Lord, I feel like I can barely gasp enough air before I start sinking again.

This is ri-di-cu-lous.  How could so much be so wrong?  We’ve already dealt with difficult trials.  We already dealt with a private pain that threatened the size of our family.  Then when we were pregnant for the first time, we almost lost her halfway through pregnancy to the parvo virus and had to get in utero blood transfusions.  Mark – at not even 30  – had to make a career switch because his wrist, damaged in a work accident and left with arthritis and very limited range of motion after two surgeries, couldn't endure physical work any longer.

The circle of pain widens.  Our dads, within the past couple of years, have dealt with prostate cancer and a major heart attack.  Too many close friends have experienced heavy challenges and horrible tragedy, including the loss of a one-week-old baby.  WHY? 

Why does Mark’s body have to be so broken?  He’s already been through multiple major surgeries – appendix removal, hip bone graft to fix the broken scaphoid bone, a second surgery to further fix the bone that did not heal, a biopsy, and now another surgery (after radiation) and potentially more surgeries down the road?  His "good bad wrist" – as in, the one he was born with that has an arteriovenous (blood vessel) malformation overlying a bowed forearm bone – already causes him arthritis and draws a lot of what's-with-your-wrist questions (people think that's the one he broke).  The back problems have significantly changed his life, stripping him of the ability to do the things he loves: play sports, take his daughters for a mall date, and even lift his sweeties up to embrace them.  As if this isn't enough, he's on very powerful acid reflux meds  – which he might take for life  – to stop the recurring sore throats and potential damage to his esophagus from chronic acid upflow.  Now... the ugly, painful, life-changing C-word?

Why does he have to experience so much pain?  He’s already dealing with arthritic wrists.  The pain from the bulging discs and herniations in his back is not letting up, and between the back pain and pain from the incision – which is STILL infected and extremely painful 4 weeks later – he just can’t get comfortable.  WHY WON’T PAIN MEDS WORK – AT ALL?  The strongest pain med is barely touching the pain, and just makes him feel sick.  Oh, and the antibiotics are also making his stomach turn.

I fear for our future.  All of my initial research wreaked havoc on my emotions because the medical journals indicated that this was a serious cancer – the phrase “poor prognosis” haunted my thoughts.  Will my daughters grow up without a father?  Will I have to raise them solo?  If we do get through the cancer, it will always threaten to return (and even more so in an NF patient since their cells are programmed to divide unnaturally).  Neurofibromatosis is hideous.  Google images is filled with disfiguring tumours and Google searches talk about NF sufferers who deal with countless surgeries and chronic pain.  A lifetime of monitoring existing tumours, watching for new growth, removing problematic ones?  A lifetime of relentless pain – that won’t respond to medication?   The potential of all three of our beautiful, innocent daughters, having to deal with the same? 

I can’t bear it.   I’m drowning. 

I want to stop here.  But I will take my lead from the authors of the painful laments of the Bible.  In those cries, there is a clinging on to the promises and the goodness of God.  And sometimes, there’s even a praise!  Too frustrated and broken to use my own words of praise, I borrow those of the 77^th psalm, starting with the lament:

I cried out to God for help;
    I cried out to God to hear me.
 When I was in distress, I sought the Lord;
   at night I stretched out untiring hands,
    and I would not be comforted.

 I remembered you, God, and I groaned;
    I meditated, and my spirit grew faint.
 You kept my eyes from closing [it is 5:30 and I’ve been up since 2:30];
    I was too troubled to speak.
 I thought about the former days,
    the years of long ago;
 I remembered my songs in the night.
    My heart meditated and my spirit asked:

“Will the Lord reject forever?
    Will he never show his favor again?
Has his unfailing love vanished forever?
    Has his promise failed for all time?

Has God forgotten to be merciful?
    Has he in anger withheld his compassion?”

Then I thought, “To this I will appeal:
    the years when the Most High stretched out his right hand.
I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
    yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago [Aliyah’s miracle, the working out of Mark’s new career...].
   I will consider all your works
    and meditate on all your mighty deeds.”

Your ways, God, are holy.
    What god is as great as our God?
You are the God who performs miracles;
    you display your power among the peoples.

Lord, help me when it’s hard to praise you.