God has been in my kitchen again. We’ve wrestled and wrestled until I’m not sure who is coming out the winner.
I’ve pleaded and begged. And I feel like David when he said, “I am weary of my crying: my throat is dried: mine eyes fail while I wait for my God.” Psalm 69:3
The wrestling match finally comes to an end. But God says no.
For I found out this week that my mother indeed has cancer.
What do we do after pounding on Heaven’s door, only to have the answer be no?
Maybe someday I will find that I can say as my precious mother said a couple months ago when this nightmare began: “Can we not accept good at the hand of the Lord, and can we not accept evil?”
This is my mother who bandaged my skinned knees, made my little girl dresses, baked my favorite chocolate cake, prayed for me day and night, rejoiced at my baptism, cried at my wedding, and was there for my child’s birth.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever attain to the level of Godly womanhood that my mother has achieved, but when I grow up, I want to be just like her.
But for now, I need to go see her, feel her, hug her, and cry with her.
And I pray that by the time I get back, I will be able to say with my mother, “Blessed be the name of the Lord.”