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We have moved my mother to Raleigh.

I wanted to blog about the experience, because in many ways, there were various moments of humor and bittersweetness in the process that I wanted to document.

But it feels like it happened so long ago. Easter feels like it happened so long ago.

The only reason I am writing this post now is because I am sitting in the waiting room while my mom gets a PET scan and she is “radioactive” right now and they don’t want me in the room with her.

There have been a million emotions and swings in my mental and emotional and spiritual condition.

But the current condition of my life is this: my mother’s needs now consumes my life. Simple tasks take inordinate amount of time and energy for her and for me to assist her.

When I got home last night, my husband was in the kitchen fixing dinner (because I had nothing left in me to take care of my own family), I kissed him and said, “I’m going to take a bath.”

I proceeded to submerge myself in a hot bubble bath and I wanted so desperately to fall asleep in it. I needed so desperately to be left alone. I had nothing left to say, to think, or to give.

I am angry. I am not angry at my mom. I am not angry at God. I am just angry that I can’t count on my life to be my own right now. I still have that stupid ringworm and haven’t had the time of day to call the Dr. for myself. I don’t have time to even grocery shop.

The only “Easter” we had was the church service on Sunday. It was just Danny and I (the kids were in VA). It was such a nourishing, sweet time of worship and the tears in my eyes and the tears in Danny’s eyes were indication that both of us were starving to have time to love and be loved by Christ.

One of the praise songs we sang went something like this:

We honor you Lord.
We honor you Lord.
We honor you Lord, because you are GREAT.

I don’t have to “enjoy” this difficult season with my mom. I don’t have to like it one bit. I don’t have to survive it with grace and I don’t have to be the perfect daughter I know I cannot be right now, or ever for my mother. But I do, I DO have to honor my God because He is GREAT. He is all things I am not. Because of Christ, I can be all things He is.

I don’t know how to explain the blessing of worshipping God when life feels like its squeezing the mess out of you. God deserves worship and honor. And yet, when our hearts are put in a place that our faces are on the ground in worship of Him, He BLESSES us.

I cry a lot more now. Not just because once in awhile the sadness of our situation rears its ugly reality head, but because I am just plain tired and see that I am no one with anything special to do with any significance unless I have Christ.

How does this world get along without Christ? Where can there hope be?