Is Confession Really Good for the Soul?

I don't cry much. Somewhere along the way I learned to buck up and stand up. When you work with people who are really sick it changes you. How big of a problem can I have when I am working with a terminally ill child? Especially when they are the bravest of all.

I guess some where along the way I decided that what happens to me is not of significance in comparison. That is true. But it is also true that just because it's not a matter of life and death doesn't mean that it isn't difficult. And having problems isn't a sign of weakness nor is having feelings about them. But it is embarrassing.

The embarrassing thing is to be up in the night and pour your guts out on the world wide web. You know in a moment of severe emotion. I have been crying a lot. It's weird, I can't remember the last time I cried and now that it's started I can't seem to stop it. You know when your eyes sting that it's been quite a bit. Lucy will think that I am having a nervous breakdown and going crazy, but it isn't that bad. There is something to be said for the momentum of keeping on keeping on. When you stop and stand still a lot can catch up with you. You stop and take inventory when there is no where to go.

I really appreciate the comments that you all have left. I feel the support and the care, even friendship. I am guessing that maybe some of you might be wondering about my faith. Wondering why my faith isn't carrying me better. It is. What I know the best is that Jesus understands my fears. He was a man of sorrows acquainted with suffering. I don't have to measure up, all I have to do is lean. I learned that real faith is honest, that when I am weak He is strong. He will show up mighty on my behalf inspite of me, not because of me. That's why I love Him so much. It's not about me or my performance. It's about how faithful He is.

I am not really sure why this upcoming surgery has me in such knots. I think it is because I have worked for so long and know all the crap that can happen. It's the idea of them taking power saws to my bones. It affects me about the same as cutting a leg off. And then there is the question of my feet and that they have new fractures. Well, that wouldn't have anything to do with me working like a maniac half the time; OK all of the time. So we have established that I am nuts and need to cry.

There are so many questions. This isn't a good time to not have a job or go backwards. Will I be able to work again? If not what will I do? I don't really need an answer, just to say the question because it can't be answered right now. The answer is in the future. Right now I am in a holding pattern of waiting. My LEAST favorite place to be. You would never have guessed that right?
I think when we go threw tough stuff we look for what has been our comfort in the past. For a big part of my life that was my dog. He didn't hold a place above God, or my husband, or family or friends; it was just different. He was my buddy and when I looked into his eyes I felt something , he understood me without words. It's a new lesson to learn to walk threw dark places without an old friend.

You know what I hope? I hope that when this is all over I am embarrassed to say that it wasn't so bad. That all that anxiety was for nothing. Worry never works, I think it's 99% of the things that we worry about never happen. There are two ways to look at that, either it works or it doesn't. NOT. So now what? It's August I have to wait to meet the surgeon until the 13th and then we set the date and get this over with. I need to keep a positive attitude KNOWING how health care really works. I'm going to have to work at this.

Tonight I can cry more if I want to. Tomorrow I am getting up and getting dressed and am going to find something interesting to post about. I am going to find a cool picture to take. I may even bake something. That's long enough, a full day of bawling ought to be good enough for anybody. I am such a big baby, I can't even believe this. Am I really going to hit the publish button on this one?