Slow Days

I’ve been out of bed for roughly 30 minutes and I can already tell this will be a very slow day. I was on my feet quite a bit Saturday, went to church yesterday, and was up and about quite a bit afterward. The fatigue this morning is deep and consuming. I am again so glad that I am able to stay home during this time–so many people I know worked full time through chemo. I don’t know how on earth they did it. They are clearly made of stronger stuff than I!

I would like to read today, and maybe after a cup of coffee and something to eat I’ll feel more able to do that. Right now, though, my eyes are droopy and I could doze off. Words are swimming on my screen as I type.

The elliptical seems like an impossibility today, but I’ll get on it if I can. Later. I also have a couple phone calls I want to make. I’ll have to push myself until adrenaline kicks in, do the minimum, and spend the remainder of the day resting and quiet. Chemo is tomorrow and I need to go into that day as rested as possible.

The Lord God has ordered all my days. He’s ordered this one. I’ll just have to see how it unfolds, moment by moment.

The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand. Psalm 37:23-24 NIV

Shelter, again

Today I feel lousy and puny and inadequate. My head hurts and I’m tired and chilled. I got out of bed and moved to the recliner to sleep some more. Got up and made a bit of breakfast, then back to the chair. I’m not really sick, just completely wiped out, with a headache.

I look around me and see all the things I could be doing–all the things that need to be done. I know the kids can do them for me. I know it really doesn’t matter if they are done late or done right or done at all. I understand that I am in a season of rest and healing, but none of this helps. You see, I don’t have to do these things; I want to.

I love being a wife and a mom. Homemaking is my favorite thing in all the world. It’s one of God’s purposes and gifts in my life. So, when I see things undone or being done by others, it’s hard. The enemy sees my struggle and takes aim. He tells me I’m not really unable to do things–I’m being lazy or dramatic. He says I wasn’t a great housekeeper even before I got sick. He tells me people are judging me based on how many cobwebs are in the corners and how much grit is on my windows. Somehow, there is pressure to do all and be all, even while fighting cancer.

I’m going to drown out the voice of my enemy and run to the shelter of the Most High. Peace and rest are the order of the day.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress my God, in who I trust.” Psalm 91:1-2