Sunday, November 19, 2006
This weekend, in all truth the last one before the you-know-what hits the metaphorical fan, was rather soccer intensive. DD #1 had a double header, and DS #1 had a tournament with his select team (3 games) and an indoor match.
Both kids are defensive players, with my daughter primarily playing goaltender. It was while watching her work her tail off this weekend that I was hit with a word picture of the answer I want to give when asked the question “How do you feel about all of this?”—and I’ve been asked that question a lot lately.
When dd is in the goal box, her concentration (if she’s playing her “A” game!) is intense. She’s the only person on her team with the exception of the coach who has a clear view of the entire playing field. She’s concentration on getting her job done, no matter what it takes.
I, on the other hand, am sitting on the sidelines watching other kids fire balls at my child’s head, watching her frustrations, holding my breath as a kick narrowly misses her face, waiting in a rush of adrenaline to see if she’s going to shake off this hit, or if this time she’s seriously hurt. In a word, it’s painful. But it’s also wonderful to see her giving something she loves so much her all.
So, how does this relate to how I feel?
Sarcoma is my “box”…and I think I’d much rather be in the box having the balls hurled at my face than watching someone I love take the hits. I’m caught up in the process of getting my job done—not just the job of getting better, but the job of taking care of my family, of being a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, a friend. It’s so much easier to bet the one who has to experience this than to have to standby and watch.
That part of me that hurts the most is for my loved ones who have to watch this all happen and see them in pain.
I know that my “coach” (oh but He’s so much more than that lame sports metaphor!) sees the whole field of time and space…and that more than any coach, He is the Lover of My Soul. Because of that, I want to give this game MY all, for this time in my life to mean something more to all of the people whose lives touch mine.
Both kids are defensive players, with my daughter primarily playing goaltender. It was while watching her work her tail off this weekend that I was hit with a word picture of the answer I want to give when asked the question “How do you feel about all of this?”—and I’ve been asked that question a lot lately.
When dd is in the goal box, her concentration (if she’s playing her “A” game!) is intense. She’s the only person on her team with the exception of the coach who has a clear view of the entire playing field. She’s concentration on getting her job done, no matter what it takes.
I, on the other hand, am sitting on the sidelines watching other kids fire balls at my child’s head, watching her frustrations, holding my breath as a kick narrowly misses her face, waiting in a rush of adrenaline to see if she’s going to shake off this hit, or if this time she’s seriously hurt. In a word, it’s painful. But it’s also wonderful to see her giving something she loves so much her all.
So, how does this relate to how I feel?
Sarcoma is my “box”…and I think I’d much rather be in the box having the balls hurled at my face than watching someone I love take the hits. I’m caught up in the process of getting my job done—not just the job of getting better, but the job of taking care of my family, of being a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter, a friend. It’s so much easier to bet the one who has to experience this than to have to standby and watch.
That part of me that hurts the most is for my loved ones who have to watch this all happen and see them in pain.
I know that my “coach” (oh but He’s so much more than that lame sports metaphor!) sees the whole field of time and space…and that more than any coach, He is the Lover of My Soul. Because of that, I want to give this game MY all, for this time in my life to mean something more to all of the people whose lives touch mine.
Name:
4 Comments:
Heather,
I spoke a great deal about you (and David) today at the two services I did at Mill Creek Baptist Church. (Rachel visited there with me a couple of summers ago when I was Pastor.)
I shared mostly the facts in the a.m. but much more personally in the p.m.
I told them how much it was hurting to watch my "red headed girl" -- my DIL and Son in such a situation. I told them that Mom or I would rather be doing this instead of you. I told them -- as Dad -- how proud I was of you both.
I had some cancer survivors there in the a.m. and a nurse in the p.m. who were quite touched. They are praying for you (as is Mill Creek and FBC Lake Placid -- visitors came from there today).
Dad feels so helpless. I wish I could do more. Yes, I can come to watch the kids (but your Mom is handling that). Yes, I can come later to help if your Mom can't. Yes, we can send some "assistance". But, Dad can't fix it! I am sorry. I wish I could.
We are praying for you.
We love you very much.
Dad (and Mom)
Oh! YES! That makes SO much sense.
It IS so frustrating & heart breaking when you are the voyer in these situations & there is NOTHING you can do to 'make it better', 'change it' or 'make it go away'....it takes ALOT of FAITH, in these situations to sit back & truly let GOD have control.....& to be @ peace w/ that.
Big cyber hugs to you!!!!!
Heather, your perspective on things constantly amazes me. Your strength and courage are such an inspiration. I have been thinking of you this week, hoping everything went well on Monday and that you enjoy a wonderful holiday with your family before the mental, emotional and physical challenges of the next few weeks. You and your family will continue to be in my thoughts.
Heather,
Praying without ceasing for you.'
You are loved,
Laurie
Post a Comment
<< Home