struggling sunday...

Not sure why, but just about every Sunday a flood of emotions rage in me. And today is no different.

Part of it is that I'm not feeling well, battling a massive headache that seems to ebb and flow. One minute I can wash a few dishes and fold a bit of laundry; the next minute I can barely see straight...yeah, it's not so fun.

And part of it is the constant reminders that Sunday brings...life is not what it was. I cannot escape it no matter how hard I try, and believe me I try. It has been 18 months since our family has gone to church together regularly. Oh we've attended the a few services here and there for special reasons, but the consistent church-going is not a part of our lives at this time. Jason has been attending and that has been a great thing for him, but I know that he misses us as we stay home and I try desperately to find something to fill the space.

It's hard.

Today I've just been so melancholy longing for what was before when we would head to church, grab some lunch and be a family doing something that is a core part of us. But for 18 months that has been changed, altered and it is really hard to find rest for our weary souls. I am beginning to really understand and believe in the importance of the body of Christ...not in just attending church, but being a part...participating in what it means to be His church.

It is increasingly harder and harder to try to find some balance, we are so ready for parts of our life to find us again. I long for friendships, acquaintances, interactions with others. Part of the hardship is just knowing that life is moving forward without you...

But, that has always been a hardship.

There are so many layers to the outcomes of having a child with cancer. So many things that you wish someone would have told you...so many feelings that come without warning and try as you might you would love to just live again. Today has been one of those days...

After we ate some lunch and I was playing with Camryn's hair she asked me if I could put it in a ponytail for her. I thought well we could try...her hair is still pretty short and very curly, but let's see. So we did, I was able to get two little ponytails and the rest clipped down and you know what? I saw Camryn for the first time...the Camryn before she relapsed...the grown up Camryn. She is running around looking in every mirror and admiring her ponytails...she sees the difference too and she likes it.

I smile when I think of her hair coming back, it may seem simple; but it's huge.

And yet today I struggle to find a balance between what was and what is.

And that struggle always seems to find me on Sunday.