February 22, 2019

Dear God,

What am I supposed to do now?  I feel like I’m starting a completely new journey than I was five years ago and that, again, I have no one to watch and model.  How am I supposed to make sense of life after the chapter that has just finished?  What am I supposed to do?  Who am I supposed to help? 

Obviously, Kate and Ethan still need help from me … and I’m starting to suspect that they are going to need help from someone other than me, too.  I didn’t think that we looked particularly sad, but (a friend) said that’s what it looks like to her.  Especially Matt.  Am I supposed to help him, too?

But I still feel like I am still so fragile myself.  My nerves act up when I even think about delivering a letter to someone.  My nerves act up when someone asks me how we’re doing, and when I know they want a real answer, not just one of my standard responses.  And then when I start to open those doors in my brain that have been closed for days or weeks, I easily lose my composure.

But I want to help other people.  I want to teach confirmation.  I want to sub.  I want to write.  I want to help the hospital and the BCCN.  I want to use all of these experiences and this knowledge to help someone else.  I am so well equipped to step into this role.  But when?

I feel like all of the pieces are spread out, but that it’s not up to me to make it fit together.  Your timing has been important.  It’s so hard to wait and trust.  Part of me wants to jump in, but a bigger part knows that I am not yet ready.

How long will it take for my brain to heal?  For my heart to heal?  For my family to heal?  How am I to know when I am pushing too hard and when I am pushing just the right amount?  I wish some parts of life would be clearer.  I feel like the big picture is clear, but it’s the little details that are more difficult to decipher.

However, I am thankful for the listeners in my life.  And the questioners.  Thank you for continuing to surround us with people who care.  Please make each step clear.  Clear enough so that I know where to put my foot next.

Me