Everything Will Be Okay
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Our dog died last Wednesday. He had stopped eating and drinking and we knew the inevitable was coming. No matter how hard we prepared, we still weren’t ready. There is such an empty hole in our lives. He has been here since the first year David and I got married and he went to work with David almost every day. It’s been a sad week at our house. My kids have cried. My husband is a wreck. And even though I miss the old dog, I’m over here doing what I always do-holding us all together.
This weekend everyone went their separate ways and I decided to mow. I put my earphones in and got to work. As I made a turn to mow another pass, Zach Williams’ song, Heaven Help Me, came on. I’ve listened to this song so many times, but Saturday, there was one line that was louder than the rest, “I just need to hear you say that everything will be okay.” I turned the mower off, propped my face in my hands, sat there and ugly cried. For the past eight months it’s been one emotional hit after another. Just the cancer journey alone is enough, but we have been hit from all sides at all levels. I’m tired. Weary. Worn. Exhausted.
So, for a few minutes I stopped doing what I always do, and I just fell apart. I poured my heart out to God on that mower and cried big ole elephant tears until all of the dust and dirt left nasty streaks down my cheeks. I’ve been somewhat of a broken wreck most of the weekend, but sometimes the glue gets tired, too. Sometimes the “sticky” that holds it all together needs to loosen that hold, lean on someone a lot bigger, and regroup so they can get a better grip and hold it all together just a little bit longer and stronger the next time.
I look down the road and I try to imagine a date or a time when all of the uncertainty of this year will be over. Longingly I reach for anything that appears stable, but right now there is absolutely nothing certain to hold on to. That’s when I need to hear God say that everything will be okay. I need him to scoop me up in his big arms, hold me tight and assure me that the end is in sight. To not give up. To stay in the fight. To keep holding it all together. For just a little longer.
Strong people get weak, too. We hold it all together until our “sticky” is pulled into a hundred different directions and finally loses its grip. I’m grateful for friends who love me when I’ve lost my “sticky”. I’m also thankful for God who adds His “sticky” to the mix and holds it all together, always reminding me along the way, that everything will be okay.
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