Struggle to grow

Whenever I write a blog I want to have something to say. I want to have had an experience or a thought that I have developed and attempt to write eloquently to get my concept across. Therefore my posts are rarely spontaneous and while, yes they are me; they are a refined me. The me that I want everyone to see and know. The me that spends time planning things and consciously thinks about how she is viewing life.

Then there is another me. The me-in-the moment that often is not seen. The me that reacts to things. The me that hangs up the phone with a heavy heart when her mother tells her that her grandmother is in the hospital. The me whose heart sinks with the realization of the stress of home which she is not part of.

My grandmother is in the hospital. But there is more to the story. My mother was in the hospital last week and had surgery that was more complicated than expected. She had 13 staples removed yesterday. My grandmother thought she had the flu but when she went to the doctor it was found that she has some sort of pervasive infection and is being hospitalized. This is distressing, yes. Who wants their family member in the hospital? But the implications of my grandmother being in the hospital are what bother me. My grandfather is very dependent. He has dementia resulting in short-term memory loss. He's isn't out of control or anything. He is forgetful. This means that my grandmother monitors his diet, tests his blood routinely (diabetes), gives him his various pills and in general keeps an eye out for him. He will probably forget that she is in the hospital and wonder where she is. My mother will have to look after him. My mother who is recovering from surgery and needs to be taken care of herself. I don't know if this means she will sleep at their house or what they will do. My mother is wonderful, however, when my mother gets stressed she becomes difficult to live with and often unreasonable. Ugh. I perfectly understand.....it's just hard. And then my grandmother. My sweet grandmother. Oh, how I love her. I hate seeing her becoming more dependent herself. How frustrated I know she must be. Then there is my father. Calm and collected Dad whom I have never seen angry or rude in my life. He will be the chauffeur and pitch in where he can. He is the mediator. The reasonable, reliable one who is often taken for granted and unappreciated. Oh Dad. I appreciate you.

But in this whole situation there is always sunshine to be seen. There are always lessons to be learned. There are always opportunities. I believe that with every part of my being.Satan wants us to get so focused on the negative that we can't see the sun rays breaking through. Trials are certainly a reminder that this world is not our home. There are no hospitals in the New Jerusalem.

Without struggle there is no growth. If the plant never struggled it would stay in its happy little seed in the dark earth. Without struggle the leaves can't spread, the color can't deepen and the roots are not fed. To receive nutrients you have to endure the rain. And it's not coincidence that plants turn their faces to the sun.

So I don't know how this will all turn out. I feel bad not being at home. I want to be there to help, to make it all go smoother. It's difficult to realize my life path is going in a different direction. Meaning my focus is not pointed toward home anymore. My life focus is outward to wherever my own home will become. That's growth too I suppose.

So my heart is heavy for home. My concern and thoughts are focused there. I anticipate a very difficult time the next few days. And I wish I could be more of a help. I want to help bear the burden. But in the mean time I will pray, call my grandma and encourage my parents.

And turn my face toward the Son.

(images: http://pocketchange.become.com/images/charlie-sigh-769156.jpg, http://www.syspro.com.au/img/grow.jpg, http://radiantlifeministries.org/images/in_jesus_arms.jpg)