The Light is Shining

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Dear Crazy Town,

Life away from crazy town, can be just as crazy as life inside crazy town.  Some days I wonder if I ever left.  I’ve had some decent years, but there have also been some really hard times. Since I left “town” I have gotten married, graduated from college, had professional jobs and started a family.  Heck, I have a daughter who is in college now.    But, let me feel you,  there was a season of life, when I felt like I had been promoted to the owner of crazy town.  The life I built, the one I had fought for, well, I almost lost it.  It was hard, so very hard.

But there was FINALLY a morning when, I looked out the window of  an ICU room and the sky was beginning to brighten.  It was as if God was saying, “It is going to be fine.”

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For the first time, in longer than I could recall, I really felt hope.  It had been a long 3 1/2 years and I had not weathered life’s storms very well.  The storms began with a disappointment in December of 2009, when I had a miscarriage and lost a baby that, like all momma’s,  I already loved.  I wept for that sweet baby and still think of that sweet soul that is sitting in the arms of Jesus.  This was followed in March by my Mom spending weeks in the hospital.  Then there was a series of minor inconveniences including  the never ending family room remodel,  the flea plague and the never ending baby room remodel.  Thankfully, I had been able to conceive again a few months after the miscarriage and I was expecting another sweet baby.

I didn’t realize that the hardest season of my life was about to take my breath away when we were gifted with this sweet little boy in December of 2010.

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You see, three months after the baby was born, my Mom died.  I felt like my breath had been taken away.   If it hadn’t been for that perfectly timed baby God had given me, I might not have gotten out of bed.  Grief is a tricky thing.  And….I was only beginning to see that.

Six months later, my nephew was diagnosed with cancer.  Another six months passed, and his mother, my Sister died.  My knees hit the floor.  Literally.  And Emotionally.  I was done.  The next ten months were spent trying to raise my 3 kids, helping my nephew when I could and keeping my head above water.  I was devastated.  I was angry.  If I am totally honest, I was mad at the God I loved and had learned to depend.  How could He?  I just couldn’t understand.

Then, wam!  Another blow.  My middle child was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes.  Our family had to learn a whole new language, so many medical terms.  It consumed me for a period of time.  We learned to test blood sugar 6 to 10 times a day (around the clock), give insulin injections and count every carb my sweet little girl ate.  At only 6 years old,  she handled the changes better than I did.

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Fast forward another 5 months.  In July of 2013,   my attitude had gotten rotten!  I was so hard to be around that I didn’t even want to be around myself.  I was tired (so, so tired… tired) and frustrated.  I felt like the God I loved was picking on me and that all of my efforts were yielding little return.  I was cranky and had been excluding myself from all but essential activities.  My church family knew where I was emotionally.   My family and friends knew.  No one knew how to help.  I was in a downward spiral but, people were praying and more importantly…

God knew. God always knows.

My husband came home from work on a Monday afternoon with some pretty serious indigestion.  It wouldn’t go away.  He asked me to take him to the hospital. The same hospital my Mom had died in.  I was mad. Was he seriously making me go into the hospital where I had to say goodbye to my mom??  I know, some Christian I am, right?

When the doctor said he was having a heart attack (Holy Moly, you are kidding, right?), I was snapped out of my self-centeredness.  My family was depending on me to be strong.  An ambulance ride to a bigger hospital and an hour in a Cath Lab and my husband was all fixed up.

Which brings me back to the sun rise.  The next morning, my husband was okay.  My T1D daughter had spent the night away from me for the first time since diagnosis AND had lived to tell about it.  A weight was lifted from me. When I looked out that window and the sun was shining,  I literally felt lighter.  I know it sounds crazy but somehow, during the night, gratitude had won.  I realized that my God was not picking on me.  Life was happening to me AND everyone around me.  It just wasn’t pretty.  And, for the first time in a long time, MY light was shining.  I knew I was going to be okay, regardless of the outcome.

It has been years since that sunrise.  Although I had hope again, It was still a long road.  In all honesty, I am still dealing with the ramifications of that season and the lasting effects from that time in my life.    Life around me is still chaotic.  We still have blood sugar checks, medical bills and loads of medications to manage.  My nephew lost his battle with cancer after fighting for six years.    I miss My Mom and My Sister.  Every. Single. Day.  My circumstances are no different.  But I am.  I trust God again.  I believe in His love.  I am thankful for everyday I have with those that I love.

Now, I will choose to live everyday in the Son, in His Light.   As Philippians 4:13 says “I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.”

In His strength,

Cheryle

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