Amy's 'momentary trouble'

Amy had a wonderful weekend with her family. She told me that they laughed together & cried together, talked with each other and ate together. Her Aunt and cousin presented her with an absolutely beautiful hand-made quilt that the two of them took the time to make. The colors are all in shades of purple and when they finished, they discovered that they had two large squares left, so they made her a large body pillow to match. Other then experiencing the stomach pains, Amy has been doing quite well, but she did come back from the trip somewhat worn out, so with the kids on spring break this week, I am hoping that she can get some rest and have the kids step up and help around the house.

I had a discussion with a very good friend of mine today about how I was doing through all of this and I had to admit that I’m beginning to realize that this is starting to take more of a toll on me than I originally thought; I have not been sleeping very well and am just getting kind of run down. Well, the friend told me, ‘You need to take care of yourself. You’re not doing Amy or the kids any favors by not. It’s okay to be uncertain, sad, angry – all at the same time if you are! If you don’t show the kids that it’s normal to feel those things, how can they work through it themselves? It’s not NORMAL to be strong all the time.’ Well, just to let everyone know, I have had and will continue to have 'my moments'. I'm sure enough in my masculinity that I'm not afraid to admit that I cry. I cry often about this situation and at times I sob so hard that I give myself headaches. I have days when I doubt and fear. I remember early on when we first found out about Amy having to have surgery (but previous to knowing that she had cancer), I was driving home from Indianapolis listening to the radio when Michael W Smith’s ‘Healing Rain’ came on. At first I was singing along with the song, but it turned into a prayer that I offered up for Amy’s healing and I couldn’t finish the song because of my sobbing (by the way, I strongly caution you against doing this while traveling down the interstate at 75 mph, it’s hard to see with swollen eyes!).

I haven’t hidden my fears from the kids (although, we haven’t gone into depth about Amy’s condition with the younger two) and they have seen me cry about this as well, but through the tears and the pain and yes even the anger, I have to be there for Amy, I have to be there for the kids. You see, they are swimming in this sea called life and a storm is turning the waters choppy. Fear, doubt & uncertainty is causing the storm to build and they need an anchor or a solid rock to cling to while the storm assails them. As father & husband, I need to be their anchor, I need to be their rock. Please don’t misunderstand, I know and am aware that I too am swimming in these same waters, enduring the same perfect storm with its gale force winds & crushing waves. But yet I resolutely & steadfastly hold onto my family with the one free arm that I have. Huddling and holding them close, protecting them as best I can against the raging elements. I can use only the one arm as the other is wrapped around a worn and weathered timber for support. I pull my family in so they too can cling to the foot of this rugged, blood stained timber which is unbelievably more stronger and more able to keep them safe than I. And as the old hymn states: ‘So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross, Till my trophies at last I lay down; I will cling to the old rugged cross, And exchange it some day for a crown.’ We continue to cling to the foot of the cross for it is in the one who died upon it where we place our trust, our hope, even our very lives.

Psalm 107:29 – He stilled the storm to a whisper, the waves of the sea were hushed.
Matthew 8:26 – Jesus said, "You of little faith, why are you so afraid?" Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.

This is Amy's story as seen and told by me - V