Anger has its place

My problem is not that my dad is dying of cancer; nor is my problem that my mother is slowly slipping away from me as the mom I've always known.

My problem isn't that my mom doesn't understand what's happening to her or that my dad is distraught and failing to take care of himself; and my problem isn't that we don't have obscene enough amounts of money to provide one-on-one care for my mom or a more comfortable living environment in which my parents can live together.

The problem, now that I've slowly come to realize I am not God,  is that I have not yet accepted these painful, ugly realities of my life right now.

As I result, I am angry.

In fact, sometimes I feel enraged.

But I have absolutely no one and nothing on which to blame the exhausting, overwhelming feelings of powerlessness, fear and rage I have been experiencing since this all began. Believe me, I've tried to place blame. I've been unjustifiably angry at myself, my dad, my husband, my cats and dogs, my son, my mom, my bank account, my sister and my brother-in-law, and, sadly, even God. It's all been a pathetic attempt to somehow make myself feel better and more in control for even just a short second.

It has not and does not work. 

So I've been leaning on my amazing support system. They listen to me, guide me, commiserate with me, and assure me that, they, too, have survived such nightmares with their sanity intact.

I've tried and continue to try what I've been taught: Establish an attitude of gratitude. Sure, I have had moments, sometimes hours, of gratitude throughout this ordeal. In the beginning, I felt and recognized much gratitude.

I think maybe I felt gratitude more easily then because, also in the beginning, I felt more hope.

But it's not the beginning anymore.

New stages of illness have invaded both parents' bodies and minds. New waves of exhaustion have crashed over me. New and unpleasant realities have assaulted my sense of well-being.

Hope has escaped, and despair has wrapped her cold, bony arms around me.

As  a result, I have been mired firmly and resolutely in my pit of anger and grief.

But it's OK! I understand completely what this is all about, and anger is just something I must get through.

Because I don't like feeling angry and because it can be deadly for me to wallow in, I won't allow myself to get stuck in it.

You see, I'm already beginning to accept that this heartbreak isn't about me or my family. It isn't about good people or bad people or bad things happening to bad people. As much as I like to make things all about me, it's just not. It's life. My family and I simply are no different, better than or worse than anyone else in this world. Why take this experience as a personal affront then?

Ironically, I now know there's a reason I'm making myself wade through the book of Acts. Although it's by far not my favorite book in the Bible because it's dry and somewhat tedious, the timing in my studies couldn't be better. Jesus' disciples and Paul ... even though they were chosen especially for the purpose of spreading the truth of Jesus (and, therefore, God had to have loved them dearly) ... suffered mightily. They died violent, painful deaths. While at chosen times along each person's journey, he was spared from harm, the end became the end for each. The ends of their journeys, as well as points in between, involved great suffering.

And God didn't spare Jesus, obviously. If you want to compare sufferings, I'm pretty sure Jesus won the top "prize."

So, I have to get over it. Plain and simple. I am but a speck of sand in this great cosmos ... no more or less important than any other speck of sand. Good times and bad times will happen. Suffering is simply an unfortunate reality of life.

Like the disciples, Paul, Jesus and everyone else who graces this life, sometimes we're spared from harm, and sometimes not.

The ultimate hope and relief, however, is that, like those before and after me, my soul and the souls of my family members have already been rescued from eternal harm. We have something indescribably awesome to look forward to past all of this pain and suffering.

For THAT, I am eternally grateful to God.